


A Love in Prismacolor

by lilithenaltum



Series: Now Turn on the Bright Lights [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor: Ragnarok - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Disorder, Artist Brunnhilde, Bisexual Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), Bisexual Loki (Marvel), F/M, Falling In Love, Homophobia, Implied Shuri/MJ, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lawyer Loki, Lesbian Aunt Nebula, Mentions of miscarriage, Odin (Marvel)'s Bad Parenting, POV Loki (Marvel), Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Use, Past Loki/En Dwi Gast, Past Loki/Sigyn - Freeform, Past Relationship(s), Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, inspired by a John Mayer song, past student/teacher relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-03-05 17:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 61,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13392375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithenaltum/pseuds/lilithenaltum
Summary: Loki never really took to New York City until he found Hilde. And now, he can't remember life before her name.A Loki/Brunnhilde love story in ten parts.Now including a pretty snazzy soundtrack over onSpotify!





	1. True Blue

**Author's Note:**

> The John Mayer song that inspired this fic is called "City Love". 
> 
> Comments make my day, so feel free to tell me how you like the story so far. I'm also on tumblr if you'd like to chat with me.

Loki couldn't say that he _hated_ New York City; he simply was blase about the place. It was dirty, loud, rough, and the people rude, and yet, there were certain charms to the boroughs and neighborhoods. And in the twenty five plus years he'd been there (eight of which he’d lived in Brooklyn), he found that there were little points and spots that he absolutely adored and loved. One of those places was the art gallery a few blocks away from his apartment.

  
It was almost always empty and quiet, and as such, suited him just fine. He spent hours there, perusing the gallery with a glass of wine on one hand and contemplating which piece of abstract art would look best in the sparse space he lived in. Loki wasn’t exactly a terrible decorator; when he and Thor lived together, he’d picked out all the decor and furniture. But he hadn’t really had time to decorate in this new apartment, not with the case he’d just won. Finally, he had a little downtime to pick out some artwork for the living room, and perhaps one or two oil paintings for his bedroom.

  
He’s stuck on one piece in particular, a beautiful realism portrait of a gorgeous young woman with bright brown eyes and lovely brown skin. She’s looking over her bare shoulder, lush lips parted just a bit and long lashes fanning out towards her brows, as she looks up toward something out of the frame. Loki’s focus is so intent on the portrait, the way the artist has rendered such a realistic rendition of his or her model that he doesn’t notice the person that is standing next to him until she speaks.

  
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to draw something like that while looking in the mirror?”

 

He looks to his left, from where the voice is coming and then down a bit, to find the girl in the portrait looking up at him. She smirks once she notices him making the connection and then when he understands her statement, his eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something. She cuts him off before he can, however.

 

“Yeah, I get that look every time I say that line. It’s why I say it. I love seeing people’s faces when they figure out what I mean.” And then she chuckles, hands on her hips and she rocks back and forth on her heels in amusement.

  
“How long did that take you?” Loki decides to say because everything else his brain thinks up at first sounds absolutely asinine or ridiculously dorky.

 

“On and off? About a month. Hardest one I’ve done yet, too, but it’s probably my least favorite.”

 

“Why? It’s stunning.” _You’re stunning_ , he wants to say but he holds it in.

 

“Because it’s me,” she says, if its obvious. When he frowns in confusion she sighs and continues elaborating. “Self portraits are so pretentious, don’t you think? I mean, you’re putting all your heart and soul into making another rendition of your own visage. Now, don’t get me wrong, when the old masters did it it didn’t carry the same sort of stigma, but we’ve got camera phones and fuckin’ Canon SLR’s…there’s no need to waste talent on drawing a picture of yourself.”

  
Loki leans in further to the portrait to find that it is indeed not painted and is drawn, with colored pencils and ink. Whatever medium it’s done in, it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s seen in the gallery and he’s been coming here for months. He realizes he’s seen some of her work before, when he looks down to figure out the artist’s name, and he smothers a chuckle at the name of her piece.

  
**Brunnhilde Valkyrie** , ‘ _this bitch right here_ ’, **2018**

  
“Whatever your opinion on self portraits, it’s a beautiful piece Ms. Valkyrie.”

  
She beams then, genuinely and beautifully and Loki’s heart skips a beat. It’s frightening. He hasn’t had any interest in another human being since his ex and that’s been a while.

  
“Thanks mister,” she says. “If you like that, you may like some of my other shit. Just around the column over there. All of it’s for sale, by the way.” And then she moves around him quickly, striking up a conversation with the one other person in the gallery, an older woman who’s staring at a picture of two little girls at play.

  
Later, when the gallery is about to close and Loki realizes he’s spent far more time in this place than usual on a Thursday night, he finds her again, chatting up the gallery owner and drinking some Perrier.

 

“Mr. Odinson,” Brunnhilde says, smiling that sexy, almost dangerous smirk of hers again. For the first time that night he notices she’s got her hair up in a messy bun with colored pencils holding it fast and that the little white and blue dress she wears offsets her eyes.

  
“How’d you know my name?” he asks, tilting his head curiously, and then Brunnhilde nods towards the gallery owner, a pretty dark haired woman named Wanda that he’s become friends with. She’s the wife of the bookstore owner next door, a tall, thin man named Jarvis Vision. On Saturdays he’s seen the two of them in the park with their corgis and Loki makes sure to wave every time. It’s nice to have a few people who don’t know about his past, who don’t treat him like a stain on the carpet.

  
“Ah, Wanda,” he continues. “Good to see you. I didn’t realize you’d be showcasing more of Ms. Valkyrie’s work, and wasn’t aware I’d get to meet her tonight.” Wanda smiles.

 

“It was a spur of the moment thing, I think. Hilde didn’t call ahead.” Wanda playfully nudges Brunnhilde- _Hilde_ -in her side and laughs. “She simply decided to drop in and see how her pieces were doing.”

 

  
“And?” He’s curious to know how much she sells them for, and how many reproductions she’s had to do. He’s sure she sells out as soon as people crowd into the gallery on Saturday nights. But the smirk on her face falters and her shoulders droop a bit and he regrets asking.

 

Wanda answers quickly. “Uh, well, they haven’t quite been exposed long enough-” Hilde cuts her off and rolls her eyes, clearly irritated by the situation.

 

“Cut the bull, Wanda, nobody’s buying my shit. They like the weird stuff, ya know, cats pooping on canvas and white girls smearing period blood all over a cardboard box.” Wanda almost chokes at this but Loki is laughing, though he realizes that the whole thing isn’t nearly as funny as it should be.

 

“Some people have…odd tastes. And some people are just hipster assholes,” he tells her. He’s happy to see that some of her spunk comes back, that she smiles again and that it makes her perk up.

 

“Amen and all that jazz. I sometimes wonder if I should shave my armpit hair and paste it onto notebook paper and call it something artsy like, oh, I don’t know…’ _the existentialism we fucked through_ ’ or something.”

 

Loki snorts ungracefully and bites his lip so his laughter doesn’t turn into downright guffaws.

  
“You could, but what about integrity? What about what you feel and need and possess? Authenticity? That’s what makes art enjoyable. That’s what comes through in your work.”

 

Her smile softens into something sweet and she shrugs. “Yeah, you know…that’s why there aren’t any menstrual pieces by me in here.”

 

“That,” Wanda offers, "and there’s no way in hell you’re bringing that shit into my gallery.” The three of them chuckle at that.

  
“Well, I have to lock the doors, it’s past nine,” Wanda says, shooing the two of them toward the entrance."Come see us whenever you want, Loki, and Hilde, I’ll call you if I sell anything. Promise. Maybe come through Saturday night? Those are our biggest turnouts.”

 

Hilde shrugs. “Gotta work Saturday nights, you know. But if I can switch shifts, I’ll stop by.”

 

Loki offers to walk her to the subway station and she lets him, the two of them chatting about her preferred medium, about what got her into art and what she does for a living. She’s a waitress at a little soul food spot in Queens, going to school for computer science.

 

“I’m almost done. Almost, thank god. Got one more semester and then I can get a real fucking job.”

 

“Don’t you want to turn your artwork into a real job?” he asks, and she looks at him as if he’s daft.

  
“Of course I would,” she says. “But let’s get real here-art doesn’t pay near enough to live in this fuckin’ city, not the way STEM does. Besides, I’m pretty good with a computer and I like it.”

 

“You’re pretty good with drawing, and you seem to like it,” he counters and she shrugs, though she quiets a bit. They are almost to the subway and she pauses.

 

“I love it,” she says in a soft voice, but then she is pulling out a card and handing it to him.

  
“Look, if you’re really that interested in my pictures, call me or somethin’. I’ll draw you something. You look like you got enough cash to help cover my rent one month so…” Loki laughs at the audacity. But she isn’t wrong and he’s more than willing to pay for good artwork if it’ll help her out. He also really wants to see her again.

 

“Fine,” he says, taking the oblong business card. It’s clear, with her name, number, and Instagram on it, paint splotches across the backside of it. It looks like something you’d pick up at one of the new donut and Thai tea places in Brooklyn.

  
“Can I call you tomorrow?” he asks, just as she leaves.

 

“You better,” she says, smiling at him over her shoulder and he’s reminded of her self portrait, of the warm naked skin she’d painstakingly drawn in a mirror and captured so well. He wonders how accurate the depiction is, and he finds he wants to find out for himself, to press his mouth to her skin and see if it’s sweet as she is fiery. But she’s walking away now, though she waves behind her and he turns back around to head home.

 

  
The next day, before he leaves for work, he drops by Wanda’s gallery and buys all but one of her pictures, places them in his house in specific places. His favorite, the self portrait that had struck him so deeply, still sits in the gallery so that other people can appreciate the beauty of both the artwork as well as the artist behind it.


	2. Goldenrod

“Your appointment isn’t until next Wednesday, Loki.”

 

Loki twirled an ink pen between his fingers, his phone cradled against his shoulder. He had been putting off calling Hilde for a little over a week now, preferring instead to send her messages via Instagram and the occasional text. She had seemed receptive, but he wanted to give her a call to set up a lunch date and now Loki was nervous. Nervous may have been an understatement; phone anxiety was a real thing and ever so prominent when beautiful women were involved.

 

And so he called his therapist, Darcy, for a little moral support. If this didn’t work, he’d probably end up chickening out and he knew he’d regret it big time if he did. It had been almost six years since the last time he’d been out on a date, and eight since he and Sigyn had broken up. At the thought of his ex-wife, his heart rate sped up and his mood soured. Clearing his throat, he took a breath and pushed through with what he wanted to say.

 

“Yes, I realize that. You did tell me I could call you anytime I needed to.”

 

“Uh huh. You usually text me though.” He could hear her scribbling something in the background and Loki wasn’t sure if she was writing down this conversation or if she was simply doodling. He guessed it was probably the latter.

 

“Well yes, but…it’s imperative that I talk to you. I need the practice anyway.”

 

Darcy snorted inelegantly on the line and Loki couldn’t help how the corners of his mouth turned up.

 

“Okay, so what’s the big deal? Cause whatever has you actually calling me makes this a big deal. Don’t tell me it’s a case.”

 

He shook his head and then remembered she couldn’t see him and confirmed that he was having no issues on that front. In the courtroom, Loki was a master, any vestiges of his sometimes crippling anxiety melting away. He got into what Darcy called his Power Zone, and she had encouraged him to try applying that same narrow minded focus to all other aspects of his life, but Loki had only been marginally successful in that endeavor. He could, at least, talk to other people without clamming up and running away now, but he still had trouble talking over the phone.

 

And asking someone out to a date, no matter how casual, was terrifying.

 

“I actually, uh, need to call someone for a date. Sorta. I still haven’t asked her out yet, but I didn’t think shooting her a text to meet me for lunch would go very far. Or is that how people are doing things these days? I don’t keep up with dating culture anymore.” He could hear himself rambling, though he figured that was better than stuttering and he gave himself a little mental congratulations on not completely failing at this phone call. Darcy was noticeably quiet on the other end and for a second he worried she’d hung up on him, but he could hear a sharp intake of breath and was relieved to know she was still on the other end.

 

“Loki,” she finally said her voice an octave higher and Loki could tell she was excited though he knew not why. He hadn’t even done anything yet. ”You have a date? Oh my god, you have a _date_!”

 

He scoffed, setting the pen down with an audible click and pushed his chair away from his desk. “It isn’t-I haven’t even gotten to ask her yet, Darcy!”

 

“Oh my god, a date! He’s going on a date, hot dog!”

 

She was laughing then, authentic peals of laughter but Loki wanted to smile. She wasn’t laughing at him, she was happy for him. Prematurely, perhaps, but still, it made him feel good.

 

After a little more teasing, Darcy finally settled and caught her breath. "Alright, fine, this is a cause I can get behind. Now what do you need me to do again?"

* * *

 

The phone call went a lot smoother than he'd thought it would because she was on her fifteen minute lunch break and didn't have time to really talk. Darcy had stayed on the other end, quiet as a church mouse, and just the idea that she was there if he needed help buoyed him. He asked if she wanted to meet for lunch and she'd asked for dinner instead, reminding him she had class during the day but was off that night if he wasn't busy. He'd stammered a quick goodbye when she had to clock back in, and then he got carried away with planning said dinner, going through yelp with the gusto of a man reborn. He had a date! And she'd seemed excited to see him! He settled on a quiet but exclusive surf and turf restaurant and confirmed their plans via text, getting a smiley face in response to his genuine confession that he was looking forward to seeing her again.

 

He hadn't been this excited in a such a long time he'd forgotten how it felt.

 

He picked his phone back up, leaning back in his too small chair and shot his brother a quick text for the first time in weeks. They didn't talk often, and met even less though they lived in the same city and were in the same business. But Thor was in corporate law and Loki in the smaller, grittier public defense sector so their paths almost never crossed. He found he wished they did, no matter the bad blood that had been spilled between them in years past.

 

_you won't guess what happnd 2 me_

 

There was an almost instantaneous response, which made him smile softly, and the all caps made him laugh. 

 

_U GOT TO MEET BARBRA STRISAN (?) CANT SPELL LOL_

 

_no LOL tho that would be splendid! i have a date!_

 

Three little ellipses popped up and disappeared and then reappeared several times, making Loki anxious until Thor finally responded.

 

_OH HELL YEA BRO I'M EXCITED! WHO IS IT giMME DEets!!!_

 

Loki snorted. But he obliged, texting his brother as much information about his meeting with Brunnhilde as he could.

 

**and she is stunning thor...absolutely gorgeous. i'm surprised she talked 2 m3**

 

_BuT WHY?? U ARE GREAT!_

 

Well, that was a stretch but he appreciated the sentiment anyway and stared at the screen of his phone for a long while, soaking in the minuscule praise. And then he was struck with another feeling. Regret. Maybe guilt. It all felt the same and he was two seconds away from dredging up old wrongs and hurts and offenses, of brooding over just how awful he'd been to his brother who had only ever loved him. But his phone vibrated again and it was Brunnhilde this time, and he caught his breath, for she'd sent him a picture of her in her uniform.

 

She was so lovely, even with her hair up in a messy braided bun and a grease stained apron on. Underneath the picture she'd included two smileys and a peace sign emoji. He hurried to save the picture and sent her one back, of his feet propped up on his desk and a partial view of his droll, beige office. Several minutes went by before he got another reply, this one rushed and harried, and Loki figured she was trying to sneak text him at work. The thought of that made him giddy as a boy.

 

dud iif i wnated to see ffeet id' look down...ignore the typos lol

 

**ha! i have learned to dicipher them thanx to my older bro. also a pic only if u ask nicely**

 

oh wtevrrr...fine. plz? wanna see what ur lookin like rn

 

He narrowed his eyes and slide the camera up, double tapping the screen to get the front facing one, and then sat staring at his reflection for a long moment. Well, he may have been a self loathing idiot with anxiety issues and the urge (still) to snort lines but he was damn good looking, if he had to say so himself. And so he gave his best and most award winning smile, though he kept things casual and light, and sent that one to her.

 

And then he waited.

 

When his phone vibrated this time it was Thor.

 

_DID U DIE LOKI?_

 

Loki snorted, loudly, and typed a quick response.

 

**no you goof ball, i'm textin the girl.**

 

He paused for a moment before pressing send and attached her picture along with it.

 

**this is her.**

 

 _wowwwww...that's a good 9, 10_.

 

It had to be serious if Thor was texting in lowercase.

 

_when and where is the date??? want me and sif to come along._

 

Loki groaned.

 

**oh god no the last thing i need is for my ex to be there**

 

He could almost hear Thor laughing across the city.

 

_that was middle school! and 4 like 2 wks she said_

 

**2 and a half and she dumped me for Fandral**

 

He chuckled at that and glanced at the time. Almost five, so he shoved his phone in his pocket and sorted his papers, preparing to leave for the day. He had a date to get ready for.

* * *

 

"So, I figure all the normal first date questions could be asked, but I'm a risky bitch so...we'll go with something more interesting."

 

Loki looked up from the bite of cake he'd been working on and tilted his head, curious and apprehensive. Their dinner had gone by swimmingly well, and he thought everything was interesting enough...at least without having to delve too deep into darker waters. There were things about his past she didn't need to know. Not on a first date at least...and possibly not ever.

 

But still, she was grinning at him over her tiramisu and coffee and there was a glimmer in her eye, a curve to her mouth that made him want to spill his deepest secrets. She was dangerous.

 

Frigga didn't raise a punk, though, so he grinned and bit the bullet.

 

"Shoot."

 

Delighted, Hilde clapped and leaned forward in her chair, the glow of the golden lights illuminating her gorgeous hair like a halo. She was so beautiful, he had a hard time not just blatantly staring.

 

"What's the biggest regret of your life so far?"

 

Loki freezes just then and a menagerie of bad choices and regrets come flooding into his mind like sirens. He isn't even sure where he'd start, if he were to tell her the truth, because for as long as he's been living, he's regretted damn near every choice he's made. She seems to sense the change in atmosphere because she backs up a bit and waves her hands to dismiss the question.

 

"Scratch that," she says, her voice apologetic. "I...would not really want to answer that question either. So long as you haven't killed anyone-"

 

And then Loki bolts from the dinner table and rushes away, mumbling some sorry excuse about using the bathroom. He's tempted to run outside into the parking lot and disappear but he knows ghosting is one of the worst things you can do to someone so instead, he holes himself up in an empty stall and calls Darcy faster than he can think better of doing so. 

 

"Don't tell me you stood her up." She doesn't even say hi at this point, launching headfirst into conversation. "Because if you did, I'm never going to let you live this down and I will make you call her on the telephone, you know, dial the number and everything-"

 

"She's here in the restaurant, Darcy," he whispers, and something in his voice must have made her take notice because she pauses. 

 

"Hold on a second."

 

Less than ten seconds later there's an incoming FaceTime call and he answers it with shaking fingers.

 

"Loki...dude, what happened? Are you in the bathroom?"

 

He has the overwhelming urge to cry, but Darcy is looking at him patiently and she cares, he knows she does. _You're the only patient that gets my cellphone, Lokes._ So he takes a deep breath and tells her all about the date, about their conversations and questions.

 

"And then...she asked me about my biggest regrets and you know-"

 

"Yeah...jeez, dude, just breathe, it's okay-"

 

"She dialed it back a little, but she said something about _killing_ someone-"

 

"Self defense, Loki." Her voice is kind but stern and it grounds him. "It was self. Fucking. Defense. Don't make me start this with you again." For a moment he is angry she's talking to him like someone's mother but then, he realizes his hands aren't shaking as badly and his heart has stop pounding and he's grateful she allows herself to stretch beyond the borders of patient and therapist into friendship.

 

"Thank you Darcy," he says softly, and for a long moment they are both quiet, Darcy in her kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and a Rice Krispie treat in the other. 

 

"You owe me...what now, seventeen lunches?"

 

"Sixteen."

 

"Seventeen cause it's after 8." She winks and then the call is over. 

 

He takes a moment to gather himself and hopes against his better sense that she's still out there. And by some miracle she is, finishing off the last little bit of tiramisu, turning her head to grin at him as he seats himself again. "Glad to have ya back. For a second, I thought you'd loped out on me."

 

"I was tempted," he confesses, then shakes his head and groans. "Not...because you're not...you're amazing, and wonderful, and tonight has been so much fun-"

 

"Sir."

 

The maître d' grabs his attention and informs him that the restaurant closes in ten minutes. He glances at his watch, startled that it's nearly 11 pm. "Yeah, I know right? Time flies by when you're having dessert." Hilde tosses a ten on the table for a tip but Loki hands it back and refuses to allow her to leave it. "You do realize that the waitress won't see that whole tip if you use your...oh. You have cash too." She bites her lip and it sparks a fire in his veins that he covers by hastily grabbing his jacket.

 

Down the street, he waits beside her for her uber, his hands stuffed respectfully into his pockets though he's tempted to slide a palm along the small of her back. She looks splendid tonight, once again in blue with her hair wrapped around her head in a crown of braids. The sundress she wears is corseted and hugs her figure like a glove before flaring out into a short but sweet little a line skirt. Loki thinks to mention, once more, how lovely she looks in blue and Hilde laughs, but leans into him and gives him a soft look. 

 

"I know. It's why I wear it so much."

 

For a while, they are comfortably silent. Hilde checks her app and groans to find there's an added 20 minute wait. "This is what I get for trying to save money," she says, and she shifts from foot to foot impatiently. "Should have said 'fuck no' to the group ride."

 

"Want me to call you a taxi?" Loki offers but she waves his offer away and shakes her head.

 

"Nah. Besides, twenty more minutes won't hurt. But you've gotta keep me preoccupied in the meantime. You owe me that much."

 

He's not quite sure what she means at first, until he notices she's staring at him expectantly, and he thinks to dinner and her question and he presses his nails into his palm so he doesn't panic once more. 

 

"You're right," he concedes and he sighs. At the very least, he figures, he can give her a general idea of what triggered him so. "I apologize for my behavior earlier." She shrugs at that but allows him to keep going. "I...it's just that...what you asked me. Well, it's a delicate question with a very loaded answer and I'm not...I don't want you to-"

 

"Let me decide that. You _haven't_ killed anyone...have you?"

 

When he is quiet, she blows out a breath and then whistles. "Military?" He shakes his head. "You don't give me mass murderer vibes so...I'm guessing...a hit and run accident?" There is a second where he wants to lie and tell her she's right but he sees Darcy in the back of his mind and he shakes his head once more. 

 

"It was...self defense."

 

 _Self defense, self defense, self defense, self defense._ It's the only reason he's not in prison now...that, and his brother and his friends are some of the finest lawyers in New York.

 

He doesn't say anything else for a while and she doesn't push him. Instead, she leans her head onto his shoulder and curls her arm under his and they stand on the sidewalk like this until the uber driver texts to let Hilde know he's only a minute away. "About time," she mutters, and she sighs as she pulls away, stretching her shoulders as she does so.

 

"You don't want to hear the details?" he works up the nerve to ask. Hilde shakes her head.

 

"Nah. Not right now. Tell me on our fourth date, or something."

 

Loki grins in spite of the butterflies in his tummy. "Does that mean you'll have dinner again this weekend?" 

 

"I work weekends," she says with a laugh, and just then her car pulls up.

 

"Brunnhilde?" the driver asks, and she nods, turning around to face Loki. 

 

"I'm off Monday. Take me out for ramen bowls this time, okay?"

 

And then she leans forward, pressing her lips to his cheek, stopping centimeters away from his mouth. "See ya later, Loki," she whispers, and in a flash, she's gone.

 

He stands still on the sidewalk for another long minute before he realizes it, and it's with a grin on his face that he walks toward the subway, a little bit of a spring in his step.


	3. Dahlia Purple

It had been a long while since he'd gotten to do lunch with his brother. Neither of them ever had the time for it anymore, but somehow, he'd had a few spare hours and Thor was just getting out court for recess. The restaurant he'd suggested was close enough to the courthouse that Thor wouldn't be late and that Loki could hurry and dress for his date that night.

 

His third date.

 

He smiled at the thought and glanced over to his cell, pressing the center button to see if she'd text him back yet. She hadn't. He had to swallow down the feeling of disappointment and remind himself that she was busy, class that morning and an early shift so they could go out that night. And so he settled back into his seat and watched the people walking to and fro from his spot outside the café.

 

"Loki!"

 

He felt a smile creeping across his face and he turned to greet his brother casually. Thor looked sharp in a navy blue suit, red tie and powder blue shirt, his blonde hair closely cropped and slicked back. Loki suddenly felt rather underdressed; he'd tried getting out of his usual black or green and wore dark grey slacks with a navy sweater and a light pink shirt underneath. But then he remembered that he wasn't smack dab in the middle of an important court case and had the luxury of going somewhat casual today so he brushed the anxious feeling away and allowed his brother to embrace him.

 

"You're late."

 

Thor grinned and shrugged his shoulders, but he wasn't at all apologetic. "I'm on time, actually. You're the one being uncharacteristically early for lunch. Work let you out already?" Loki nodded and lead them into the restaurant, greeting the hostess.

 

"Two?" Loki nodded, but Thor waved him away.

 

"Three, please. My wife will be joining us shortly." At Loki's raised brow he smiled. "Sif just got back from London and wanted to see me before she went home and fell asleep."

 

"Uh huh."

 

"She literally just text me fifteen minutes ago!"

 

"Riiiiight. So this isn't some attempt to gang up on me for being noticeably absent, is it?"

 

"It's not! Though...she is convinced you're avoiding her, Loki."

 

"She spends most of her time threatening me, Thor. I'd rather not spend my energy on someone who blatantly dislikes me-"

 

Thor laughs, thanking the hostess as they are seated near the window and he orders a water for himself, a seltzer for Sif. Loki gets coffee, black, and flips through the menu while Thor tells him about the case he's working on. "Lawsuits are such a pain in the ass, you know? But this one...it's been a particularly shit one. Some idiot goes on an amusement park ride knowing she's pregnant and blames us for her bed rest."

 

Loki hums in thought. "Loss of work, bills are piling up. Were there any signs available insisting that pregnant women not ride that particular ride?"

 

Thor shook his head. "She's trying to prove that the park is at fault, although common sense should tell you not to get on a damn rollercoaster when you're six months along."

 

Loki shrugs. "Common sense isn't present in all humans, you know that. If that were the case, I wouldn't have gotten into half the scrapes I did. And somehow, you artfully maneuvered me out of those."

 

Thor is contemplative for a moment, but he waves that thought aside and focuses back on the menu once more. "I'm thinking a salad."

 

"With extra chicken, no doubt."

 

Thor grins and turns to greet the waitress as she brings their drinks. "Thank you sweetheart." She smiles, a little flustered by Thor's blatant good looks and easy charm and asks if they're ready to order. "I'll have the chicken salad, double chicken, no croutons. Oh, and ranch dressing on the side." He pats his belly and grins. "Trying to watch my weight."

 

Loki lets out a graceless snort at that and allows the waitress to finish jotting down Thor's order before giving her his order. "I'll take the club sandwich, on wheat...no mayo, extra tomato. And perhaps the Dijon instead of the regular mustard?" She nods at him also, though he notices it's not nearly as brilliant or bashful. He ignores the feeling it gives him; he should be used to something like that by now. Instead, he quietly hands her his menu and turns his head just in time to see Sif jogging across the street, waving at Thor to stop the waitress.

 

"Oh! Sorry...uh, Della?" Della nods. "My wife is joining us and would like to order." Della holds off on leaving for a moment and waits patiently as Thor rearranges their seats and cutlery. "Hello, my love! You made it just in time."

 

Sif gives him a harried smile and leans down to press a soft kiss to his brow, then sits in a bit of a breathless flush, taking a generous sip of her seltzer. "Do you need a menu ma'am?" Della asks politely, obviously put out now that the missus is present. She masks it rather well, Loki observes, but he blows his coffee and tries to hide a grin.

 

"Uh...yes..." She takes one of the menus Della offers and flips through quickly, then settles for a strawberry walnut side salad and a bowl of chicken gnocchi soup. Once her order is in and Della is gone, she turns her steely gaze on Loki.

 

"And where have you been the last several months?"

 

Loki glances to his brother mid sip of coffee and rolls his eyes at the query. "Where I always am," he says drolly. "In Brooklyn with the little people." Sif's smile is sharp as usual but there's a gentleness to her gaze that settles him. "You could always come down and visit."

 

She shrugs. "I can't ever tell when you'll be home or not, and besides...work keeps me so busy."

 

"I'm supposing lunch is your idea, then?"

 

She shakes her head but he doesn't believe her and the tension on his jaw must have given him away because her shakes turn into slow nods. "Sorta kinda. I mean, it's been a while since we've seen you-both of us-and you never call or text me anymore-"

 

"I didn't think I needed to. I'd hate to be a bother."

 

"-so I asked Thor for a little lunch date." She reaches her hand out and covers Loki's, soft manicured nails contrasting against his pail skin. They're a deep red, Sif's signature color, and they match her mood and personality quite well. "I don't see what the crime is. I simply want to see my favorite brother in law."

 

"Your _only_ brother in law," Loki quips, but he can't help but smile. Sometimes, when she really wants to, Sif can be a darling.

 

"Well yeah, that's simply because Heim isn't gay, so I ended up with Freya as a sister in law. But my point would still stand. I mean, you were my first kiss, Loki. Of course you're my favorite." Thor watches the two of them curiously, his bright blue eyes twinkling happily. If there's anything Thor likes more than extra chicken on his salad or a tall glass of beer, it's his wife and brother getting along. And there's definitely been times in the past when that did not happen.

 

Still.

 

"I feel as though you're buttering me up, sweet Sif."

 

She grins outright then and withdraws an envelope from her purse. It's cream and thick and expensive and Loki thinks back to a time when spending money on stuff as mundane as envelopes had been an important indicator of his status in life. Now, he thinks, he couldn't care less. He sets his coffee cup down and takes the envelope warily, glancing at Thor who has sat up and leans forward in expectation.

 

Oh. So they _are_ in on something together.

 

"What's this?" he asks, and he wiggles the envelope backward and forth to see if he can guess. It's a greeting card, it seems, from the weight of it, but he can't think of any reason why he'd be getting something like this. His birthday isn't until October. But Sif and Thor only motion toward the envelope again, refusing to give him a clue on what they've got in the damned thing so he sighs and slips his finger underneath the seal and pops it open.

 

It's a card, definitely, though not quite the greeting variety. There's a large golden heart on the front with a quaint little script above it and Loki reads over it twice in his head before Thor bangs the table excitedly and begs him to read it aloud. "Please?!" He shakes his head but indulges his brother and puts on his best orator voice, smiling in spite of how silly he feels when Sif starts to giggle. He doesn't realize she's recording, her phone stealthily placed beside her glass of seltzer.

 

"The only thing better than having you as my brother..." He raises a brow and shrugs. "Is nothing?" he says wryly and Thor snorts, but Sif slides him a golden dollar.

 

"Scratch the heart. You'll get the rest of it."

 

She looks to her husband then and smiles softly and for a moment, Loki wonders if this is what it's like to have met your soulmate at childhood and stuck with them ever since. It hurts, in an odd way. He thinks about Sigyn for a moment, but doesn't want to ruin their obvious good mood so he presses on. Starting at the top right edge, he starts to scratch the golden heart until little by little the remainder of the card's message comes into view.

 

And then it takes him a moment before it sinks in what he's reading. "C'mon Loki," Sif says softly. "Read it aloud for me. Please?"

 

He glances up at his sister in law and wants to cry because he's both simultaneously happy and incredibly sad and there are feelings and emotions inside him that tangle up and twist like the strings of a kite.

 

He clears his throat and starts at the beginning. "The only thing better than having you as my brother...is our baby having you as an uncle." He starts to laugh then, and Sif awws, no doubt from the shine of tears in his eyes, while Thor gets up and gives him a hard clap on the back.

 

"Baby Odinson is due in December," Sif says and she grasps his hand, squeezing it tight. "You're the first person besides Heimdall and Freya to know. I let them in on it while I was in London."

 

"She had me on Skype while we told them," Thor said happily. But his face changed the quieter that Loki became and Sif frowned. "Loki, what's wrong? Are you...upset?"

 

He shakes his head, plastering a smile to his face and wipes at his eyes. "Oh heavens no, no! I'm thrilled! I've always wanted to be an uncle and...well, I couldn't ask for two better parents to the child I'm going to spoil." He grins then for good measure and hears his brother let out an audible sigh in relief. And just then, Della comes around the corner with their food so he stuffs his feelings down deep, until lunch is over and he can wallow.

 

He doesn't think about the baby that almost was. He doesn't think of that night eight years before as his ex wife bled in the bathtub and cried, clutching her belly and screaming at how this was his fault. He doesn't think of how the first thing he'd wanted was a needle and some smack, or how he'd thrown away his one chance to make it right by leaving her alone in the hospital to get his fix.

 

Instead, he eats his club sandwich and discusses baby names with Thor and Sif and pretends he's somehow managed to forgive himself for what he did (or didn't do) eight years before.

 

* * *

He realizes, as he walks home, that he doesn't really have much time to wallow like he wants. He shoots a text to Darcy anyway for good measure, telling her about the lunch and about the announcement, and she doesn't even have to ask him how he's truly feeling because she seems to already know.

 

_you know, I always say to face your past head on...but this might the one time i'm gonna tell you to try to not think about it too deeply_

 

**i'm trying darcy. I can't. I've wanted nothing more than to make amends for the past and maybe this is it? maybe being an uncle is my redemption**

 

He stops texting just long enough to press the crosswalk button and get to the otherside.

 

**so I have to be happy, right? but I can't be. I keep wondering what could have been and I keep hating myself for ruining it.**

 

It doesn't take Darcy long at all to respond so he figures she's probably done with patients right now as it's close to when her office closes.

 

_yeah i'm gonna need you to stop that. get over the idea of redemption. get out of your head and into the moment. BE HAPPY LOKI. you deserve happiness, we all do no matter what we've done in the past. and the past is just that. THE PAST. let it be a lesson, not a millstone around your neck._

 

**okay yes I understand that**

 

_But do you really? because ever since I've known you, you bring that up. sigyn and the baby and how you ruined your life. loki, you're still breathing. you've got a roof over your head and your brother still loves you and you're employed again._

 

He sighs, slowing his walk enough so that he can truly absorb what she's trying to get at. And he knows, though it's painful to admit he's being self masochistic about this for no real reason, that she's right.

 

His phone dings again and he finds a message from Hilde waiting. _so i'm thinking we could get ice cream this time yeah?_

 

He smiles despite the sharp ache in his chest and quickly responds. **ice cream is wonderful. do you have a favorite spot or shall I pick?** Almost instantly, she replies.

 

nah I know just the place. it's my turn right? you picked the last two places :P 

 

Well, she was right about that. Since the ramen shop she told him about was closed that day because of an emergency, he'd suggested they go to MOMA and get a late lunch at Fogo de Chao, where she'd proclaimed it was her first time trying Brazilian and could they come back again, this time with her best friend and roommate? The fact that there would be a next time and that she wanted to introduce him to the infamous Shuri Udaku (child prodigy and actual genius) had him giddy for the next solid week.

 

**lol fine. meeting me there again or shall I pick you up?**

 

I don't mind a pickup lol...so long as u don't mind waiting on me to get cleaned up? i'm covered in paint rn 

 

Loki has a picture of her in his mind's eye, paint splattered all over her exposed skin while she works away at another masterpiece, in overalls and a little shirt. Her hair is pulled up with one of her colored pencils and she's got the most peaceful, happy expression on her face. It calms him to the point that when he actually makes it up the stairs to his apartment, that knot in his chest has loosened considerably.

 

**it'd be my pleasure, ms valkyrie <3 **

 

His phone dinged again, as he tossed his keys on the table in the foyer and made a beeline to his bedroom to shower and change, and possibly catch the first hour of Perry Mason airing. It would be a late afternoon date as opposed to something at night as Hilde had class early the next morning and then a long shift after and he didn't want her to be tired. And getting into bed before midnight wouldn't be such a terrible idea for himself either.

 

_Sorry if i'm being a little harsh loke. I just don't want you to blame urself anymore for old stuff that was, honestly, both of your faults._

 

There is the trailing of dots that show that Darcy isn't done talking so he waits, sitting on the bed as he thinks of something casual but stylish to wear. But then Darcy doesn't respond again and he feels awful, that she's probably thinking he's angry or upset with her when he isn't. He texts her quickly.

 

**It's fine Darcy, I promise. I wouldn't have text you if I wanted to be coddled. Thank you. so much. :)**

 

A minute passes before she responds again, and this time it's more upbeat and her usual self.

 

_good deal. I just want what's best ya know? you're my friend as well as my patient so...yeah. i'm a little more invested. now go get dressed and tell me about that date tonight. i'm bored at home with popcorn and Gilmore girls lol_

 

Loki settles on black jeans and oxfords, a slate denim shirt on top, and his hair slicked back casually. The entire affect looks put together but not too severe, and he unbuttons the top few buttons just for added measure. He doesn't want to come across as too stuffy, but not sleazy either. Satisfied with his appearance, and with another hour to spare, he decides to at least try and catch the beginning of the Perry Mason episode. Fortunately, it's one he's seen already so he already knows the outcome and the culprit. There's another text on his phone, this time from Hilde, who snaps him a picture of her with purple paint smeared on her nose, a lopsided grin on her face.

 

okay so guess whose class got cancelled in the am?! wanna do ramen AND ice cream? 

 

* * *

 

Hilde's apartment is on the second story of a renovated five story brick building in Ridgewood. It's easy to find and not too far from her chosen ramen noodle spot, Shinobi. The uber drops him off out front and he texts her so she can buzz him in. Within seconds, he's climbing the stairs to apartment 2A.

 

For whatever reason, he's not nearly as nervous as he'd expected he'd be. It could be that he'd been texting her the whole ride over, or, that he was now familiar enough with her that he didn't get tongue tied and shaky hands whenever he saw her in person. True, they'd only been in each other's presence physically three times, but that didn't stop him from feeling as though he could relax at least partially around her. She was mostly easy going and a natural born people person and she made him feel as though he didn't have to hide anything around her.

 

He hadn't gotten to the point where he'd told her about every little nasty part of his past, but at least she knew he'd been married before, that his parents had both passed away, and that he had found out he was adopted when he was sixteen. But anything about Sigyn or Thanos or even Gast was something he would save for a much later date, when she was ready to hear the sordid details and when he knew for certain he could trust her with something as traumatic as the period that was his early twenties.

 

It only took two solid knocks before he heard the door unlatch.

 

"Who is it?!"

 

The voice was unfamiliar and for a moment, Loki wondered if maybe he had the wrong apartment. He thought to glance at his phone once more just to double check but he was certain that she'd said 2A. "Uh...it's Loki Odinson? Here for Brunnhilde." There was a pause and then a giggle before the door cracked open just a bit.

 

"I need to see your ID. And possibly your social security card. Passport. Something."

 

The face peeking in between the crack of the door was young and pretty, dark skin and bright brown eyes, and the accent that carried as she talked gave her away. "I'm guessing you're Shuri," Loki said with a smile and the young woman giggled again. She nodded.

 

"That's what they call me, yeah. You're the weird white boy Hilde's seeing huh?" She shrugs and unlatches the chain lock. "Come in, I guess. I don't suppose you're like, a serial killer or something are you? I'd hate to die before my trip to Maui." Loki raises a brow but is entirely amused.

 

"The last I checked I wasn't a serial killer." A killer, yes, but not serial by any means. _Self defense, self defense, self defense._ He blinks twice to clear his mind and hopes the girl didn't notice. "I like to think I'm not weird, but-"

 

"You're weird. We all are," Shuri says and she shoots her hand out for him to shake. He takes it eagerly and thinks how strong her grip is to be so petite. "If I wasn't and Hilde wasn't, we wouldn't be friends. And I wouldn't be shaking your hand right now. I'd be glaring at you from the corner."

 

He steps inside the apartment at that and takes in his surroundings. It's definitely an artist's home, finished and semi finished canvasses propped up against the wall and pieces of sculpture and artwork on the coffee table. The couch is bright red and covered in a brilliant blue and black blanket. He lets his fingertips drift over the blanket and delights in how soft yet sturdy the material is. "That's from back home," Shuri explains, and she points to a pile of similarly dyed blankets, each in a different bright color and fabric. "There's a specific tribe that makes these and you can't get them anywhere else but through their website or at the marketplace in Birnin Zana."

 

"They're beautiful," he says, and he takes the dark purple and grey one that Shuri plops into his arms. "Do you go back to  
Wakanda very often?" Shuri slides onto the couch and turns on the TV, though she keeps the volume low so they can chat.

 

"At least twice a year, yeah. Mostly for my mom's birthday and for my brother's. Last year I went three times. My brother got married." She grins and pats the seat beside her, and Loki obliges. "Of course, I'm sister to the king so I had to go and I had to be in the wedding because my sister in law wanted me to be a bridesmaid or whatever. We took Hilde too, she had a blast."

 

"I'm so moving to Wakanda, I promise you," he hears from behind him and he turns to find Hilde, putting on earrings and smiling. She looks absolutely lovely in her skinny jeans and white tank top. Her skin is still slightly damp from her shower he can tell, and her hair, piled up on top her head, is tinged with purple and pink at the tips.

 

"You dyed it?" She nods, walks over to the couch, and surprises him by kissing him softly on the cheek. She smells divine too and he can't help the grin that spreads across his face.

 

"It's lovely. I like the colors on you." He reaches up to touch, but stops himself when he remembers that she doesn't like having her hair messed with.

 

"Oh, he's good," Shuri comments beside him and Hilde starts to laugh. "You've already got him trained, sis."

 

"Hmmmm I just think he's got a bit more common sense than the average white boy."

 

Loki chuckles and tries to hide the blush that spreads from his cheeks to his chest. "I like to imagine I'm not an average white boy anyway," he comments and the two women burst into peals of laughter. Hilde leans over once more and kisses his cheek again, this time closer to his mouth and shoots him a wink.

 

The night is getting off to a marvelous start.


	4. Black Cherry

Shinobi is packed for a weekday night but Loki doesn't quite mind it as much as he would were he not with Hilde. She weaves in between the tight bodies and drags him along, squeezing up to the counter where two spots are waiting on them. "You're the best, Jin!" she says with a grin and the waiter offers her a quick nod, swinging around to take the orders of a couple of young guys seated beside them.

 

"I'll grab you two in a minute, Hilde!" he yells over the din. Hilde leans forward along the worn wooden counter, grabs a pair of chopsticks for each of them, and a few packs of soybeans that are tucked under the bar.

 

She's absolutely in her element and it makes Loki smile.

 

"I'd ask you if you come here often, but you're practically at home, it seems."

 

Hilde chuckles, sliding along the bar stool until she's practically sitting on his thigh. His heart rate spikes enough that he has to focus hard on what she's saying instead of what his body is doing. Hilde doesn't seem to notice much, and she leans in closer to him so that he doesn't have to struggle to hear her.

 

"I actually was offered a job here, but the hours wouldn't have worked with school. I'd like it better than the café, that's for sure. And free ramen. But maybe that's good for my diet."

 

"You're on a diet?" Loki couldn't help his eyes from sweeping the expanse of her body and he struggled to think of any reason she'd need to be on a diet. Then again, he was sure he'd find her incredibly sexy regardless of what kind of weight she had on. But Hilde shook her head and popped a soybean into her mouth.

 

"Hell nah. Does it look like I need to be on one?"

 

 _Fuck_. Well there he went talking before thinking again. He thinks maybe he blushes a bit. "Nope."

 

"There you go. I'm just saying that's a lot of carbs for one person and I have no real self control when it comes to ramen."

 

Loki smiled. "I don't particularly blame you. If I wasn't such a stickler for routines, I'd probably spend one good day just pigging out." As it were, Loki didn't think he could afford to slip in self control, not even when it came to food. That was a slippery slope he had absolutely no intention of sliding down. And since Darcy had told him about his very addictive personality, he'd steered clear of anything that would be too tempting to limit.

 

It was partially why he hadn't been on a date in so long. Hell, it was at least 90 percent of the reason he'd been celibate just as long, too. That, and his libido had all but disappeared after the divorce. At least he thought it had, and now he was questioning if perhaps it was simply lying dormant, because Hilde was warm and smelled good and her hand was pressed on his thigh as she balanced on the barstool, body pressed against his so she wouldn't bump elbows with the guy sitting beside her.

 

It was like waking a sleeping bear, in more ways than one. Ever cautious after everything that had happened in his past, he almost always approached any kind of acquaintances with trepidation and a not very healthy dose of scrutiny, but with Hilde...well, it was almost as if he wanted to throw himself into whatever they had going on head first. He wasn't even sure if he could still swim, but there was something about this woman that had him wanting to at least try, even if he drowned.

 

"You're doing that zoning out thing again, dude."

 

Loki blinked and then apologized. "Sorry, Hilde, I-"

 

She shook her head and offered him a cheeky smirk. "You got distracted thinking about my weight, didn't ya? Like what you see?" He opened his mouth to say something but she was laughing again and he couldn't think straight because all the blood in his body went straight to his groin. "I'm just teasin', promise. But look, you don't have to clam up around me. I keep secrets pretty well." Her face fell for a split second and Loki thought perhaps he'd missed it but there was a tick in her jaw that told him something unsavory had passed through her mind. He was familiar enough with his own ticks and habits that he could pick up on hers as well, even in the dim light of the noodle shop.

 

"If you can keep a secret, then so can I," he said, just low enough for her to hear. Her eyelashes fluttered against her smooth cheeks and he swore he saw her pupils dilate just so. He thought over exactly what he'd said and realized just how sultry he'd sounded. That was not supposed to come out so...seductively. If anything, he'd only wanted to put her at ease. But she seemed to have relaxed because the smile returned to her lips and she ducked her head a bit, almost as if blushing. For a moment, neither of them said a word, and he dared to slide a hand across her waist, along her lower back, until his fingers were pressed into her hip and she was flush against him.

 

Jin came back in a hurry and flipped open a new page on his note pad. "You guys ready?" he asked, equal parts adrenaline and exhaustion in his voice. He was curt but not in a rude way, only in the sense that he needed to get their order and run off to the next because today was busy and he really didn't want to fall behind. Loki hadn't even really glanced at the menu, but put on the spot and anxious to not hold up the waiter, he picked the first thing he saw.

 

"I'll have the Tan Tan Men," he blubbered and he caught Hilde's raised brow.

 

"You sure about that?" she asked, pointing out the spicy bean paste based broth. He hesitated for just a moment, but shrugged. How spicy could bean paste really be anyway?

 

Hilde ordered the Geisha bowl, putting in for two waters as well as some pork bun sliders for appetizers. Jin slid her a table number and scuttled on to the next set of customers, and Hilde grabbed Loki to find somewhere to sit. There was a small table in the back corner, barely lit and cozy where the noise wasn't nearly as bad and they wouldn't be bothered. "Did Jin save this for you too?" he asked and she shook her head, shrugging off her jacket to drape it across her chair.

 

"Nope. This was pure luck. I honestly thought we'd have to sit at the bar when I got here."

 

"Wouldn't have been a problem for me," he mentioned and she stuffed the last of her soybeans into her mouth, sucking salt from her fingertips.

 

"Me neither." She was silent then, eyes drifting about the restaurant and though the quiet wasn't uncomfortable, he was curious to know why she wasn't her usual chatty self. They spent hours talking on the phone (something he'd managed to pull off only for her) and even more texting. But somehow, tonight, she was a lot more introspective than she'd been previously. He wondered if maybe there was something she was thinking of saying and he forced himself to not think of the worst.

 

"We spoke about secrets earlier," she said suddenly, and he focused all his attention on her. "I realized today that I know more about you than you know about me, so..."

 

Loki wasn't entirely sure how true that was. He knew she was an only child, that she'd just turned 30 last March, and that she was bisexual like he was. It was one of the things they'd bonded over when they first started texting; there was a common thread of both homophobia and biphobia and identity politics that they could commiserate over.

 

And yet, neither of them had truly delved into anything deeper than sexuality and a brief rundown of past relationships. He knew she'd had a serious girlfriend before she moved to Queens from Philly and she knew a little about Sigyn, but that was it. So maybe she was right, maybe they both had more talking to do.

 

"You can tell me whatever you want, Hilde," he said. "However you want. You know I've got a few skeletons of my own, so it's not as though I'd judge you." She offered him a terse smile but the nervousness in her body was palpable enough that he thought of telling her she didn't have to say anything at all.

 

There wasn't much she could have done in her past that would rival his, anyway. He knew he'd like her regardless. Even so, she started to speak, sucking in a calming breath before she began.

 

"I haven't always painted," she started. "I mean, before I decided to move to New York, I don't think I'd picked up a paint brush since I was a kid. My folks wanted me to do something substantial with my life, so...I decided to join the military." She waited for a moment to gauge his reaction, but Loki only nodded, encouraging her to continue. "Joined the navy. Did well, actually. So well that I was picked to part of a squad of other women who would sometimes go undercover on missions for the U.S. government. Nothing we did is ever going to be written about in history books or textbooks because it's all classified and to be honest, I'm probably not even supposed to tell you all of this..."

 

"If you'd rather keep it vague, I won't complain." Her mouth quirked up at that and she nodded, a little breathless laugh accompanying the motion.

 

"Good. Because...some of that...yeah, you don't need to know about it. Maybe not right now, at least. I may tell you the nitty gritty one day. But anyway, we had an official name and everything but we just called ourselves the Valkyries. Sisters in arms and all that jazz. I mean, all of us were pretty close so we kind of just adopted each other. And I didn't have siblings or cousins close by anyway so...it was nice, you know? I had a family."

 

It was then that something clicked in Loki's head and he realized he didn't actually know her real last name. Valkyrie had been a pseudonym. As soon as the realization hit, he glanced up and caught her gaze and there was an apology in her eyes.

 

"I don't really like telling people my real name here. In NYC. I don't know how news travels." She stopped long enough to accept her drink and the steamed pork buns from a harried waitress, who Loki hadn't even noticed had shown up. He turned to thank her and took a sip of his water, deciding to allow the bun to cool a bit before he took a bite. It looked and smelled amazing.

 

"I'm guessing there's a reason for that you'll tell me later too," he offered, his face perfectly neutral, but he remained engaged and open so that she wouldn't feel like he wasn't interested. He definitely was interested, possibly more than he really should have been.

 

Hilde laughed, this time a little less tightly, and drank down a bit of her water. "Mmm, yeah. The reason anyway. I guess I owe you my real name, though."

 

"Is Brunnhilde not your real name?"

 

"Oh yeah, that part's real. You really think I'd make up some old Norwegian first name to give myself?" She snorted in humor. "I really don't have a clue what my dad was thinking when he named me, only that it took me until I was about ten to get the spelling right. And I've gone by Hilde since I can remember. Most people back in Philly knew me as Hilde Savereau."

 

"Savereau?" The surname rolled off Loki's tongue oddly, but he liked it. "French?" She nodded.

 

"Pops is from central France, he met Mama on a semester abroad to the states when he was a kid and they've been ruining each other's lives since '85. My mother is a Philly native. Born and bred, and she's obnoxiously proud of it."

 

"Sounds like my father was with Asgard." At her querying look he explained. "Asgard was a teeny tiny municipality in Norway-"

 

"Which explains why you were so curious about my first name," she added, grinning.

 

"Precisely. The number of people I know with that name is small enough, but I've never met anyone outside of Europe with it. But anyway, he was mayor of the town for decades until the municipality was dissolved and Norway took over the area. Asgard is now apart of the Bergen metropolitan area and is literally a glorified neighborhood where some of my father's old friends and a few cousins still live. He moved us to New York and expanded his law practice here in the states and...well, I've been here ever since. But enough about myself, we were talking about you."

 

Her cheeky little smirk is infectious and he returns it without thinking.

 

"Yeah, well, sounds like your life is probably more interesting than mine, but fine. So omitting all the wild 007-esque adventures I've been involved in, the squad was where I met Savannah. I don't think I'd crushed on someone that hard since...jeez. I have no idea, probably never? I won't say she was my first love, really, but she was close. We started kind of dating on the low and nobody really cared, at least none of the other Valkyries. And you know, for a moment, I thought maybe we could have a future together."

 

The mood has changed by this point. Loki has a feeling that whatever the outcome of the relationship is, it won't be happy.

 

"We had a mission one night. Something that should have been easy and routine. And somehow it all went left. We were ambushed and...every last one of us-"

 

For a moment she doesn't continue, staring into her glass of water blankly. When she looks up again, there are tears in her eyes and his heart lurches forward.

 

"She took the bullet meant for me. I got one in my shoulder but nothing fatal. They shot her square in the back, and it came out through her chest and...Van fell on top of me when she died. The ambushers thought all of us were dead. I crawled out from under her body and then had to walk 12 miles to the nearest town to find help. And they told me to retire and gave me money for college that I didn't use for a long time...but I had to shut up about it. Nobody needed to know. They'd make it look like some Taliban attack or something, even though we were on the other side of the world."

 

When she laughed now it was watery and bitter and he resisted, at first, the urge to reach forward and wipe the tear that fell away. He settled for offering her his hand, which she took tentatively.

 

"I know saying sorry won't help-"

 

She shrugs. "It won't bring Van back. Won't get the gunshots out my head or make up for losing 11 other women who were as close to sisters as I've ever gotten...but it's appreciated." She squeezed his hand and tried to smile, but couldn't quite. Instead, she wiped her face with her free hand and allowed him to entwine their fingers. She shook a little when he did so, but after a while, as she sucked in deep calming breaths and her hand stops trembling. She leaned in then, eyes a little red and misty still, and continued talking.

 

"And that brings me to my alcoholism."

 

Loki stills and opens his mouth to speak but can't think of a word. She'd said it so nonchalantly that he wondered, at first, if she was kidding. Her face was open, though, and she didn't look to be kidding so he took her for her word. The waitress picked that time to come scuttling by with their steaming bowls of ramen, so Loki regretfully unlinked their fingers and helped the girl dole out the meal.

 

* * *

  

"When did it start?" he finally asks, after they've tucked into their ramen. His is spicier than he'd thought, so he takes copious swigs of his lemon water and tries not to sweat.

 

"The drinking?"

 

"Mmhm."

 

Hilde slurped up the noodles already on her chopsticks and chewed as she thought.

 

"Um...high school? Maybe. I mean, I was sneaking wine and Boone's Farm from my parents before graduation. But it wasn't really serious. Like, I didn't have a problem or anything with it. Nah, it was...after I got home. I stayed with my mom for a while until I got a job and moved out. The nightmares were...hm. Enough that I couldn't sleep unless I had half a fifth of Kentucky Dale in my system. It got worse from there."

 

He feels as though he can understand where she's coming from. High school had been utter shit to him, but it didn't get bad until after. He thinks to mention his own addictions and how they'd escalated between college and law school, but this is her time to talk right now so he refrains for the time being.

 

"Mama kicked me out when I wouldn't quit coming home plastered enough to want to start fights." Hilde pushes the egg in her bowl around, her mouth twitching uncomfortably. She continues anyway. "Papa said he didn't have room for a drunk at his place. Either of them."

 

"Your parents aren't together?"

 

Hilde looked up, blinked in the dim light and waved her hand around. "Sorta kinda? Hell, I don't know. They've never officially gotten divorced and every few years they find their way back to each other. But they live separately for the most part. So at the time, I had options. Or, I thought I had options. The only real option I had was AA or the street. I mean, I had a job and everything but I spent most of my money on booze or at the strip club, so...yeah."

 

Loki contemplates this for a moment and thinks that perhaps they really do have a lot more in common than they realized. He's not sure if it endears him more to her or not, but at least he knows she understands. She gets it.

 

"So one night, while trying to run down a low level drug dealer for skipping bail-"

 

"You were a bounty hunter?" He raises a brow and she snorts, taking that moment to slurp up another helping of noodle.

 

"Bail bondsman," she clarifies, but she's at least laughing a little now and that's better than the sadness that had lingered in her eyes. "A good one, too. Part of the reason I don't go by my name here. I've got enemies in most of the tri state area." There's a dangerous sparkle in her eye that tells him she isn't lying and he forgets his ramen, leaning forward with rapturous eyes.

 

"So you're working as a bail bonds...woman. Bounty hunter. Same thing, honestly. And you...came across the wrong bounty or...?"

 

Hilde shook her head. "It's not nearly as salacious as all that, seriously. I lost him. Or, I let him go, actually. And the guy I worked for was not too happy about it, so I had to skip town. Told Mama to head to France for a while just in case he wanted to try anything. He found me in DC. And I found another way out and hauled ass to New York and well, apparently he's got too many enemies here to really try anything on this turf. Plus, I got out the business. Cut my hair, changed my name."

 

It sounds like the start of a really good book and Loki thinks to tell her so but the waitress returns to refills their waters so he forgets to. Instead, he asks her all about AA, and her sponsor, a fellow vet named Bucky, and how she got a handle on her addiction.

 

"I guess I just got tired of living like that. In a haze, trying to forget. I was, at this point, a functioning alcoholic but like Bucky says, still an alcoholic. I pretty much always will be, truthfully. I won't touch even a wine cooler at this point because I don't have limits on what I drink and that is not a good thing. Plus, I don't wanna piss Bucky off. He's one of the only people who haven't given up on me at some point."

 

Loki smiles and thinks of his brother and of Darcy. "Including Shuri, I'm guessing."

 

Hilde grins. "She's like my little sister, Loki. To be honest, I think I keep my ass in line solely based on the fact that T'Challa would have my hide for going off the rails around her. I feel like I have an example to set. 'Don't do what I did, kid! Do better!'"

 

"I understand. I'm afraid of disappointing Thor anymore than I already have-"

 

"Your brother, right?"

 

He nods. "My older brother. By all of a year, but still." And, he thinks, I spent the better part of a decade trying to deny him. Spite was exhausting and it was nice to no longer have that dragging him down.

 

The two of them are quiet for a while, finishing their bowls and the pork buns. It isn't until his phone vibrates does Hilde speak up again. "I forgot...and don't ask me why this reminds me of it now, but...do you wanna maybe come with me to a party next weekend? I got that Saturday off and there's gonna be a kickback at Bucky's. Alcohol free, if you're worried about that." She grins. "And maybe bring your therapist...my man's been single too damn long and he's all in my fuckin' business."

 

* * *

 

They get ice cream after they finish dinner and decide to walk back to Hilde's instead of taking an uber or a cab. It's a warm night and quiet, and Loki enjoys his butter pecan cone as Hilde strolls beside him, her arm in his and a double scoop cone of birthday cake in her other hand. He thinks, as they talk and eat their dessert, that maybe he could get used to this. It's the little things, nothing fancy or elaborate, that really warm him from the inside out.

 

Ice cream and ramen dates are as simple as they come but he hasn't been this happy in such a long time. It's a little scary.

 

"So you mentioned something about addictions of your own the other day," Hilde brings up and she tilts her head up to look at him. He hadn't wanted to delve too deeply into his past, but he figures now would be the right time to at least test the waters on how she'd respond to all the things he'd done. And, he thinks, as he works up the courage to confess, she'd probably understand more so than anyone else.

 

"Heroin."

 

It's a single word that will always leave a bitter taste in his mouth. He thinks of his 20 year old self and wonders why in the entire hell he'd ever tried the drug in the first place. He wants to go back in time and smack himself, maybe steer clear of the club where he'd met Sigyn so he wouldn't ruin her life as well. His mind wanders for a moment in their silence to how he'd sat in prison on possession charges while his mother succumbed to the cancer and how his father had blamed him for her quick demise until he too had died. And he thinks about his brother and how many times he'd betrayed his trust, how he'd hurt and damaged their relationship to the point where Loki had been sure they'd never repair it.

 

But time and love heals wounds he thought would never start close up. It would probably be years before he could truly say he was whole again (and he wasn't sure if he'd ever not be cracked and broken in some way) but it was a start. And for the first time in a long while, he felt like he could look forward to something instead of living one day at a time.

 

"I can honestly say I've never tried it," Hilde mentions, when he's been quiet too long. He offers her a shrug.

 

"Thank god you haven't. It's hell. Destroys everything and gives nothing back but a two minute high and a ruined life."

 

"Your ex wife?"

 

He wasn't sure if he was ready to talk too much about Sigyn, but figures he owes it to her to say more than he had. She had opened up about Savannah, after all.

 

"I got her hooked on it, too. Back when we were still in college and just dating. And somehow, we functioned long enough that I got into law school and she got a job with a modeling agency...we got married young and lived reckless and thought we were invincible." There are some bittersweet memories there he wants to hold onto. No matter how bad things got, he realizes he wouldn't ever change how much he'd loved Sigyn.

 

"She would have followed me to the ends of the earth. I took advantage of it and...when the money got cut off and the addiction got worse, well...it came in handy that she'd do anything I wanted to get a fix." He swallows. He thinks maybe he hates this part more than he hates just about anything else, but now that he's talking about it he can't stop. It's like undamming a flooded river. "I stole from my mother." His voice shakes a bit and he doesn't notice he'd stopped in the middle of the sidewalk until Hilde pushes him gently toward a bench in front of the pharmacy. "I stole from Thor, stole from my father. I...I let my wife whore herself out to dealers for drugs and money and..."

 

He trails off, digs his fingers into his palms until he's sure he's drawn blood.

 

"You've done some shady, terrible, fucked up shit."

 

There isn't an ounce of judgement in her voice, and that brings him back to the present, buoys him so that he can continue. He nods.

 

"Most of it was done to her. All of it was my fault. _All of it_. Just because I couldn't handle the truth about myself. I found out I was adopted and my father nearly disowned me for being bi all in the same year and I used that to excuse my downward spiral." Loki's ice cream drips down his hand and he blinks back tears he hadn't even realized were gathered in his eyes. "I hurt the one person who had loved me without caring who or what I was and I can't take it back. Ever."

 

Hilde's hand slides into his own and he squeezes it tightly, drawing the comfort she gives. He thinks of Darcy and how she'd gently insisted he stop punishing himself for that now. "You've paid your penance, Lokes," she'd said, and since then he'd practiced hard at forgiving himself for all he'd done.

 

Somehow, Sigyn had. He told Hilde as much and she offers him a tremulous smile. He wonders if she's thinking about Van and how she hadn't had a chance at closure the way he has.

 

"She lives in London with her husband and their kids. Every once in a while I get an email or a phone call. And we catch up." He wipes his face, grimacing when he realizes he's still got sticky ice cream melted on his hands. "She's happy. That's all I really wanted when she left. I wanted her to be happy and she'd never be happy with me."

 

"You initiated the divorce?"

 

He nodded. "Oh, she fought me on it. Hard. After she got out of the hospital..."

 

Hilde frowns. "Loki...did you ever-"

 

He shakes his head. "Gods no. No no no. I would never...she had a miscarriage. There was a needle beside our bed and a trail of blood going into the bathroom when I got home and I...I panicked and thought she'd died. She survived, against all odds, and I told her I couldn't do this anymore. She hated me for a long time after that. I didn't blame her at all. It was my fault, she said, and she was right."

 

He tells her then about the divorce, of how Sigyn had finally gotten clean and free of him. And he tells her about the long road to recovery, of the halfway house and his trial for murder.

 

"His name was Thanos. He owned the club I used to go to, got me caught up in some illegal things. And when I wanted out, he tried to kill me but I stabbed him before he could. Thor's the only reason I'm not in prison now. The guy had clout and money and a name and-"

 

"Loki..it's fine." She's still holding his hand and her ice cream is mostly gone now. And he feels warm, in spite of everything, though he does feel drained. "If I told you some of the things I'd done...you'd think a lot less of me. I hold nothing in your past against you. Nothing. I wouldn't want you to hold it against me...nothing I've done either." There's a story behind that statement, one he thinks probably has nothing to do with the military or the Valkyries and one day, he thinks, she'll tell him. But right now, they sit on the sidewalk outside the pharmacy and lean into each other.

 

It's when she finishes her waffle cone and licks her fingers does he realize he's falling. Hard. It's terrifying and his heart stutters but he pushes it back to smooth curly hair from her face and lean down for a kiss, their first.

 

It's soft and sweet at first, like the kiss of first love and innocence but then she presses closer to him and heat spikes through his entire body when she wraps sticky hands around his neck, tug on his hair and suck in gasping breaths between kisses.

 

"I've wanted to do that since Wanda's," she whispers and he laughs then, kisses her again and again, until a car horn honks and the two of them break apart. Loki smiles against her lips and Hilde steals another kiss, this one on his chin, and drag him up from the bench to walk back to her apartment.

 

It's quiet when they get in, a few minutes to midnight. Loki had given up on the idea of getting into bed early and decides to take the morning off. "Wanna stay the night?" Hilde asks, a twinkle in her eye, and it's on the tip of his tongue to say yes, to sweep her into her bedroom and make love to her the rest of the night. But he knows, with how he's feeling right now, that it would be the wrong time. He's reminded of how he went from heroin and cocaine to sex clubs and everything in between and is terrified of replacing one addiction with another again. Instead, he reels himself in and draws in a breath.

 

"I'd love to but...not yet."

 

She doesn't take offense. Instead, she reaches up and presses another long, slow kiss to his mouth and bites her lip as she grins.

 

"Then call me when you get in. 'Night, Loki."

 

"Goodnight, Hilde."

 

Loki takes an uber home and texts her the entire way. He trudges up the stairs to his apartment and strips out his clothes slowly, as if in a dream, deciding he'll take a shower in the morning. And no sooner has he collapsed into bed does he call her, phone cradled between his pillow and his cheek.

 

They talk about anything and everything until he falls asleep.


	5. Jasmine

"So...I forgot to tell you," Hilde starts over the phone, as Loki wanders about his apartment in a new pair of jeans and no shirt. He has no idea what he's wearing to this party; he's tempted to wait till Darcy gets here so she can pick out a shirt. But he's a big boy. He can dress himself.

 

He usually can. This is a different crowd than he's used to.

 

"Forgot to tell me what?"

 

"About the uh...fuck!" There's a noise in the background and laughter he assumes is coming from Shuri. It definitely sounds like her, anyway. "Shut up, Shuri! That hurt!" But Hilde is laughing too so he figures he has nothing to really worry about.

 

"Stepped on a tack. Fuck."

 

"Put something on it. I'd hate for your foot to rot off."

 

She snorts and giggles. It's one of the cutest things imaginable, especially when she does it on purpose. She had, two days ago, when he surprised her at work and brought her sushi for her lunch break. She only had fifteen minutes but somehow, it stretched into thirty and he'd considered it the highlight of his day, especially with the case he had going on. He hated child abuse cases more than he could articulate, but fighting for those kids was more important than anything so he soldiered on.

 

"Why the hell are there tacks on the floor?" he hears, in softly accented English and then a quick succession of words in a language he really couldn't follow but figured had to be Wakandan. There was his name in there somewhere; he told Hilde to put him on speaker.

 

"Hello, Shuri."

 

"If it isn't good ole Loki!" she yells, though she's probably right next to the phone. He smiles as he hears a little shuffling and Hilde's distant voice calling that she'll be right back.

 

"She's off to go make her face up, isn't she?" he says conversationally.

 

"Mmm yeah. You know, I like makeup alright, but I never could get into all that contouring stuff-"

 

"It looks tedious."

 

"It is! And Hilde's vanity is strewn with...I don't know, twenty different highlighters and a billion different concealers and none of them make sense to me at all."

 

She goes on about Hilde's makeup collection and somehow they get on the subject of her job at the college.

 

"It's fun. I mean, as fun as trying to gain the respect of people older than you can be, I suppose." There's a certain long suffering annoyance in her voice that he picks up. "I'm the youngest professor in the college's history and nobody lets me forget it."

 

Loki tsks in sympathy. He'd been the youngest member of his graduating high school class at 16, but this is a completely different level of young. Shuri had graduated college at that age and already sped through grad school before she turned 20. And now she was teaching computer science at a community college of stressed out and irritable adults who probably only wanted to get their credits and get out of school.

 

He could imagine how frustrating that could be. She deserved something a lot more lucrative and rewarding than that.

 

"Why haven't you started your own development company? Hilde says you have quite a few inventions under your belt back home."

 

She sighs. "I thought I wanted to see more of the real world. I like New York but...I miss my lab back home. I miss not answering to anyone and making what I want for whatever reason. You know, Tony Stark actually wanted to partner up with me and build a new clean energy prototype?"

 

"I believe it. Have you asked if perhaps he'd help you-"

 

"I don't need Tony Stark's help for anything. I was simply mentioning a point."

 

Loki chuckles at her statement, but he knows she right. He's read articles Hilde has sent him about Shuri's intelligence and he wagers a guess that she surpasses Stark on that front already. Not that it would offend Tony any. Stark was an associate of Thor's in a roundabout way. Loki didn't really know him all too well, but what he did know of him, besides his sarcasm and irritatingly smug façade, was that he had a deep appreciation for knowledge and science and loved mentoring and supporting the talents of younger geniuses. He was already sponsoring two young men that Loki knew of.

 

"Of course. I'm sorry if I offended."

 

He can hear her smile over the phone. "Oh, you didn't! I mean, guys do that a lot. They think I need someone to propel me forward in this world when I have the power of an entire country and my own brain at the ready. It's alright. I mean, it's kind of misogynistic and racist, but it's alright."

 

He's quiet for a beat, and then she starts to laugh. "I'm mostly joking with you, Loki. Perk up! You didn't offend me, I promise." Even still, he decides he'll keep his mouth shut and simply listen when she talks of her work from now on.

 

Within seconds she's switched to another topic (music, and he finds that he and she both really like Phony Ppl and The Internet and Empire of the Sun) so that by the time Hilde comes back, he feels as though he's known Shuri a lot longer than he has.

 

"Look, I've got to go find something to wear to this little shin dig, so I'll let you have your bae back. See ya in a bit, okay?"

 

There is a smile on his face when she shuffles off towards her own room and Hilde's voice replaces hers.

 

"She didn't scare you off, did she?" There's humor in that question so that Loki knows she's probably heard their conversation.

 

"I won't say she scared me off, so much as...well, I'm watching what I say from now on."

 

"Yeah. Good idea. And if you're gonna be dating a black woman, you'll have to learn to do that a lot. Or prepare to have a lot of hurt feelings."

  

Loki is taken aback by that statement. "Dating?"

 

He can hear her draw in a breath on the other end, and he wonders if she thinks that she's been too forward.

 

"Yeah. I mean...that's what, you uh, that's what you want right?"

 

He doesn't say anything for a long moment though everything in him is screaming out yes. There's still a little part of him that says to go slower, to wait, to just be friends but it's been a long time since he's done anything he wanted without calculating every little single cost.

 

"That's exactly what I want," he says with a laugh, his voice dropping a bit without really thinking on it. She gives a breathy laugh and then hums.

 

"You oughta do that more often," she says, an edge of want in her voice. "Laugh like that. It's sexy."

 

"I'll make it a point to, then." He pauses long enough to tug an undershirt on finally and opens his shirt drawer for the fiftieth time in an hour. "Shall I refer to you as my girlfriend? Or my bae?"

 

Hilde's chortle is everything but seductive now but it probably turns him on more than anything else.

 

"You've been talking to Shuri entirely too much. Fuck no! I'm thirty years old Lackey, I'm no one's 'bae'."

 

" _Lackey_? The hell?"

 

She's still laughing. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks of a phrase Darcy had sprung on him when he'd found a particularly cute bunny video on YouTube and sent it to her. Something about clearing skin and crops or whatever. He'd remember it later. Whatever it was, that was precisely what Hilde's laugh did for him.

 

"I'm sorry. I swear I meant to say Loki, but it came out all...I don't even know. Just...look, I'll let you call me bae if I can call you Lackey."

 

"I have no intention of seriously calling you bae," he says, grinning. "I was thinking...darling. Sweetheart. Something along those lines."

 

"Well, if you're gonna get all fancy on me, I'ma call you-"

 

"Hilde, come on! We've still gotta get snacks!"

 

She groans, sighs a bit and yells out an "okay!" for Shuri. "I'll tell you later. You've got the address, yeah?" He confirms it. It's only a ten minute walk from his own apartment, and he finds it kind of funny that Bucky lives so close to him but he's never seen nor met the man before. "Good. I'll see you soon, Loki." She smooches into the phone and when she hangs up, he hears a knock on his door that lets him know that Darcy is here.

 

Right on time. And he still hadn't found a shirt. Perhaps he'd put off being a big boy for later.

 

It's not until Darcy is raiding his shirt drawer does he realize that Hilde never did tell him what she claimed to have forgotten to.

 

* * *

 

  

He isn't sure what he'd expected of Bucky Barnes, but the long haired, scruffy faced, softly smiling man that greets he and Darcy at the door isn't it.

 

"You're Hilde's boyfriend, right?" He's moderately tall, right at six foot with blue grey eyes and a jawline that could kill. He's built like a tank too, all shoulders and chest and arms- _arm_ , Loki remembers; he has a prosthetic on his left side-and Loki imagines there's a six pack and dark hair sprinkled on his chest under that shirt. How Hilde hadn't taken the chance to jump this is mind boggling.

 

Loki shoves that thought away for the moment, smiles amiably, and nods.

 

"And you're the infamous Bucky Barnes."

 

Bucky laughs, a deep rolling thing that makes both Loki and Darcy turn their heads to glance at the other. There's a silent exchange in their look, one that speaks of a mutual attraction to the man in front of them. It's quick enough that Bucky doesn't catch it, or, at least Loki doesn't think he does.

 

"I'm infamous now? Jesus, Hilde must have told you some raw shit then." He slides his gaze from Loki to Darcy and his brows raise a bit. "You're uh...Darcy, right?" She smiles, the barest hint of one, the way she does when she's obviously flirting and wants everyone to know it. Bucky catches the bait and tilts his head, his teeth gleaming in the light.

 

"That's what they call me," she responds, shifting her bag of ginger ales under her arm so she can extend her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

 

Bucky grasps it firmly, his eyes never leaving hers. Darcy's grin widens and she pushes her shoulders back, flips her dark hair out the way, and giggles.

 

Loki watches the entire exchange thoroughly amused.

 

"Well, look, let me get your bag from ya, and get you guys out the hall-"

 

"I was wondering if you were gonna make 'em stand in the door all night, Buck." He groans but moves around them swiftly to put the ginger ales in the kitchen. Hilde sidles up to her friend, thumping him playfully on the back of the head. She's cute as a button with her hair piled on top of her head in a curly bun, a cropped yellow tee and black high waist skinny jeans. The word 'honey' is emblazoned on the shirt in bold red letters, and Loki stares for a moment, thinking to himself that it is an accurate description of the woman wearing the tee.

 

 As soon as Loki and Darcy clear the threshold, she extends her hand to Darcy and shakes it vigorously. "Nice to finally meet you Darcy, thanks for coming."

 

"No problem at all. It's nice to get out the house. I spend most of my time watching cat videos and eating pasta." Hilde snorts out a laugh and moves over to Loki, wrapping an arm about his waist and tip toeing up to press a kiss to his lips. "And how are you?" she asks, smiling softly.

 

He likes to believe that he's not blushing, but he's probably is. Fortunately for him, it's mostly dim in Bucky's apartment, the only real light a few lamps and some Christmas lights twinkling around in the living area even though it's nearly the end of May.

 

"I'm well," he responds, and he relishes how she snuggles into his side, moves him deeper into the apartment with Darcy on her other side.

 

"There's a couple of folks I want you to meet, okay? Some buddies of mine."

 

"Are all of them as attractive as Bucky?" he asks, and her eyes widen just a bit before she bites her lip in amusement.

 

"Oooooh, you've been bit by the Bucky bug too, huh?"

 

"That's what you call it then?" Darcy gushes. "That man is... _FINE_ , oh my god. Like, capital letters and italics and everything. He's single, yeah?"

 

"Oh come on now, Darcy," he whines but she ignores him in favor of waggling her brows at Hilde.

 

Hilde grins and pulls Darcy closer to her. "Single as a pringle and looking to mingle. Go get a you piece, girl."

 

"You're contributing to her delinquency, you know," he tells her, when Darcy scoots off toward the kitchen. "She's notorious for causing all kinds of ruckus when she gets her eye on another man."

 

"She's my kind of gal then," Hilde says, a twinkle in her eye. "Or are you mad you couldn't have Buck to yourself?"

 

He narrows his eyes at that but then presses her flush against him. "A little. Though to quite fair, there's no way he could compete with all of this." He grasps her ass then, squeezing just hard enough so that she knows he means business and she gives a sharp little squeak in surprise. But she's practically putty in his hands after and smacks _his_ ass right after, so he doesn't regret it.

 

He sits at a round wooden table with Hilde and a few other folks. There's a pretty woman named Gamora Quill and her husband Peter there, playing dominos with Gamora's sister, Nebula.  Also in the game is Drax, an old friend of Peter's from college. Gamora was the epitome of cool and collected, and frequented some of the same art circles as Hilde. She mostly worked with sculpture and was showing an exhibit at Commodore Barry the next week.

 

"You should come, Loki," she invited. "You're into that kinda stuff, right?"

 

"I dabble. I'm mostly into paintings and drawings, but I tend to gravitate towards all types of mediums."

 

She smiled, a grin sharp and a little ferocious and not for the first time did he wonder how she ended up with Peter of all people. Peter Quill was the exact opposite of cool, but Loki liked him anyway. He was a geek in every sense of the word and flaunted that label proudly. He'd struck up a conversation with Loki about the pros and cons of the Blade Runner sequel, and nearly forgot it was his turn to play. "Oh shit, babe, sorry!" he said sheepishly, apologizing when Gamora poked him in the ribs. "Uh...Drax? Man? Your turn."

 

The game went along smoothly and Loki found himself picking up little bits and pieces of the rules. He'd never played dominoes before; Nebula asked if he wanted her spot next round but he declined. He didn't quite feel like he was ready to hop into the game. "Perhaps the one after?" She nodded curtly, drumming electric blue nails on the table top as she waited impatiently for her sister to finish her play. Nebula was quiet and radiated a sort of simmering energy that was equal parts dangerous and sexy. Hilde leaned over and whispered that she had a hair trigger temper and the bodies to match and he wondered if anything showed on his face, because Nebula had eyed him down for the better part of five minutes, almost as if she were planning something.

 

He looked away first and focused on his ginger ale.

 

For the better part of the first hour or so, the music didn't change. Top 40 radio from Bucky's laptop thrummed through the small apartment but no one paid it much attention. It wasn't until someone suggested plugging in their phone did the ruckus about what to play started. Loki watched with amusement.

 

"Look, I'm just saying that the last time we played Gucci, we got the cops called on us."

 

That was Sam Wilson, a mutual buddy of Bucky and Hilde's. He was a tall, handsome dark skinned man and Loki found himself drawn to his easy going demeanor.

 

"Man, fuck the police," Bucky said dismissively. "Everybody likes Gucci. _Everybody_. Thems the rules, man." Sam throws his hands up and implores Hilde to try and change Bucky's mind, but Hilde shrugs and waves him away.

 

"I'm always down for some Gucci-"

 

"You know he acts a fool whenever it comes on. You know, Hilde. Come get your friend, sis."

 

Hilde snorts. "That's your friend too, Sam. Besides, it's too quiet in here. Put "Wasted" on. I need something to laugh at." She turns to Loki and winks. "Seriously, Buck loses his entire mind when Gucci Mane comes on. It's absolutely _hilarious_."

 

"You even know who Gucci is, man?" Sam asks Loki, weary and probably hoping to find an ally in this situation.

 

Loki shrugs. He's familiar enough with the name but he can't say if he knows any of the rapper's songs, with the exception of one or two.

 

But it isn't long before he realizes he has heard more of the music than he'd thought. There's at least four more songs that he knows, at the most, the beat to.  And, true to Hilde's word, Bucky does get more amped up when the rapper plays. Loki notices Darcy sitting on the arm of the couch behind Bucky, a soda in hand as she mouths the words to "Lemonade." He bumps Hilde with his hip and she turns to see what he needs, breaking off her conversation with Gamora.

 

"What you think about Darcy and Bucky?"

 

Hilde looks to the two in front of them and watches for a moment. Bucky turns around behind him and grabs Darcy, pulling her tight to his side and nipping on her neck playfully. It's oddly intimate for two people who've just met, but then again, Darcy had never met a stranger and Bucky's a natural born flirt so it fits. He's bouncing around on his tip toes, yelling along offkey to the chorus and she giggles like a schoolgirl, holding her Dr. Pepper up so it doesn't spill.

 

It's so cute, Loki can't help but grin.

 

"Ten bucks says they'll bang tonight," Hilde wagers. "Ten, and a bag of Taki's."

 

Gamora takes a swig from her bottle of cream soda and chuckles. "I'm putting ten in, too. They'll be missing before the night ends."

 

Loki laughs and shakes his head. "I'm not losing twenty dollars on that bet. I'd agree with you, anyway."

 

"Well I'm sayin' that Buck will clam up before he can get her drawls off," Sam chips in. "Ya'll know how long it's been since he's gotten laid?" He scoffs. "Thirty says he'll wait a few days and then he'll get the panties."

 

The other three glance at each other, then back to Sam and grin. "It's a deal," Hilde says, clasping Sam's hand to seal it. She smirks and pulls Loki along with her toward the stereo system. There's a moment between songs when it's nothing but the cozy lull of conversation in the small crowd of people, and she stops the next song from playing, scrolling through the iTunes library before sighing.

 

"There's literally nothing on here but Gucci and death metal. I love Buck, but he's got the least varied taste in-"

 

"Excuse me, I don't remember telling you to touch my damn phone." Bucky stands near the speaker and pretends to be outraged. "And this is my house so I play what I want. Put "Freaky Girl" on. Darcy wants to hear that one."

 

Hilde starts to laugh and shakes her head, but obliges. "The next songs are mine, Barnes. I don't give a fuck who's house this is, I'm tired of Radric."

* * *

 

Somewhere around the time that Hilde finally pries the music away from trap and Pantera, Loki and Gamora find themselves at the dominoes table alone. There's more people in the apartment and it's only eleven thirty so the party will be going a while. He realizes he hasn't seen Darcy nor Bucky without the other for most of the night; they're currently cuddled up on the couch while SZA croons about "The Weekend." Hilde and Shuri went out to grab more chips and dip as the small supply that had been brought ran out a while back. Peter and Nebula is in the corner with Drax and a pretty redhead woman named Natasha, talking about Battlestar Galactica. And Sam is trying unsuccessfully to get anyone who'd be willing to play spades.

 

"Nobody in their right mind would wanna play spades with Sam. He's ruthless."

 

Loki rubs his thumb over the top of his fifth cream soda and considers Gamora's statement.

 

"Nobody?"

 

"We've all made that mistake. He takes it way too seriously." She pauses, her dark eyes twinkling. "Don't tell him I said that, though. He'd be offended for no damn reason." Loki nods and swears he'll keep her words a secret.

 

They're quiet for a moment after that, and Loki finds he enjoys her company. She's both funny and intelligent, quieter than most, though she doesn't brood the way her sister does. He's about to ask whether Nebula had always been like that, or was it a recent development when Gamora turns to Loki and taps her fingers against his free hand.

 

"You know, she really likes you."

 

He doesn't have to ask to know she's talking about Hilde. But he's curious to know why he'd be any different. He knows she's had lovers and boyfriends and girlfriends, though she had admitted none of them were really serious.

 

"She's never invited anyone to one of Buck's parties before, except Shuri when she first moved here. So she thinks a lot of you to do that." Gamora pins him with a serious look and leans in close so that he can clearly hear her. "I wouldn't take that for granted if I were you. Hilde is...not a very trusting person. Oh, she's a lot of fun and she can make buddies with just about anybody but friends? Not many. And a boyfriend? A real one? Nah, I've never seen one of those in the years I've known her."

 

"How long have you known her?" he asks, taking her words to heart. He knows he's lucky that Hilde even paid him an iota of attention. He doesn't want to throw that away by fucking anything up.

 

"Since before she left Philly," Gamora responds. "Way back when she was going as Scrapper and worked for The Grandmaster."

 

Loki stiffens at the mention of the name, his skin breaking into a cold sweat. There's no way that it's the same one from his high school, the one who'd gotten his teaching license revoked. _There's no way_. He's sure that it's a fairly common nickname or perhaps a coincidence and is about to ask if this one had been a disgraced former private school teacher, but Gamora keeps talking so he pushes the thought away to listen.

 

"We sort of ran in the same circles, but never knew much about the other. I ran into her at a bar one night, drunk out her mind and blacking out and took her home. Helped cleaned her up. She told me later that she owed me so...when Pete got in trouble with the law, running a few pounds for a guy in Jersey, I called her."

 

Loki raises a brow. "Peter was the low level drug dealer?"

 

Gamora laughs and waves her hand about. "She told you about that huh? Well, I wouldn't really even say low level. Occasional, is more like it. I mean, it was decent money and the both of us were broke and in school, and I'd just found out I was pregnant with Groot-"

 

"Groot?"

 

"Our son. His real name is Meredith, but we've been calling him Groot since he was a baby. First word he ever learned, and it's not even a real one." She chuckles and pulls out her phone, showing Loki a picture of a cute, chubby faced little boy with light brown skin and hazel eyes. He's a perfect mix of Gamora and Peter.

 

"He'll be seven in July."

 

Loki smiles at how soft her voice goes when she talks of her baby.

 

"But yeah, she let him go. I mean, we had just enough money for tuition that semester and food and no bail money and..." She sighs. "He beat the charge. Graduated and he's teaching fifth grade and I just...I owe her for that. No matter what she said about being even." She shrugs. "But maybe we are. I introduced her to Bucky when she was at her lowest and he got her into AA, sponsored her. So maybe we _are_ even."

 

Gamora trails off and turns her head to see Hilde and Shuri weaving through the crowd of folks in the foyer, bags held in hand, and excitement pouring off the both of them.

 

"So somebody made a chip, dip, and smoke run then," she says with a chuckle. At Loki's raised brow she clarifies. "Weed. There's a guy at the corner store that sells to most of us. I don't smoke much, haven't since Groot was born. But most of us here indulge a little green. " She takes one last swig of her soda before chunking her bottle into a trash box near the domino table. "You don't mind, right?"

 

He doesn't think he does. He'd never had an issue with weed simply because it'd never been strong enough to do anything but mellow him out a bit. But it's been a long time since Loki has touched anything stronger than an extra strength Tylenol or Lime-a-rita; he's a little wary if he should be in the company of people who smoke. It's not that he has anything against it. He just doesn't really trust himself.

 

There's a voice in his head, though, that tells him to let loose, to let go for once. He's had such a tight reign on his behavior and activities for so long that he doesn't really know how to just enjoy himself.

 

"No, not at all," he finally says, with a casual smile, and he leans back in the fold away chair with his own cream soda to his lips. It's while he's watching Hilde work the crowd of people, beautiful and alive and in her element,  does Gamora say anything else.

 

"You're a special one, Loki," she says softly, nodding towards her friend. "Don't fuck that up."

 

He makes himself a promise not to.

 

* * *

 

 _"This_ is what I forgot to tell you," Hilde says later, posted in his lap at the domino table and grinding weed. It's just the two of them right now; Gamora's babysitter had called saying that Groot wanted her to sing him to sleep one more time.

 

"He's not even supposed to be up," she'd grumbled but the second she took the phone call, her voice had softened tremendously, and she went back to the bedroom to tend to the little boy.

 

"What's that?"

 

Hilde holds up the swisher she's working on and smiles apologetically. "None of us drink at any of Buck's little shindigs, but we definitely smoke. I'm not a bonafide weed head, but I know my way around it. Are you okay with that? I mean, if it's gonna bother you with...ya know...we don't have to-"

 

He shakes his head, cutting her off with a kiss to her lips. Smiling to reassure her, he tells her the same thing he told Gamora.

 

"I'll be quite alright, sweetheart." And he will, he thinks. Darcy is joined at Bucky's hip and across the apartment from him but he knows if anything got out of his control, she'd be there to help reign him in. And he doesn't want Hilde to think less of him.

 

There's a moment when he's cognizant of the fact that this may or may not be a good way of handling the situation, but for now it'll work.

 

"Well, let me know. We can leave whenever. You're having fun, though right?" She glances at him quickly before she turns back to the blunt she's working on. She darts her tongue out to lick the paper, resealing the swisher that's packed full of green. She's mesmerizing, sexy without trying to be anything but herself, and he swallows thickly when she balances the blunt between her lips, flicks the lighter on the table effortlessly. When she inhales she closes her eyes and holds for a moment, blows out a cloud of smoke that makes his eyes water. She coughs just a little and laughs, leaning into him. And then she raises her brow when she wiggles her hips underneath him.

 

"Smoking a blunt is not that hot, Lackey," she purrs and laughs and he can't help but laugh with her.

 

" _You_ smoking a blunt is." He glances to her hand when she offers it to him and hesitates for just a moment.

 

 _Live a little_ , he thinks, and he takes a drag, a little too deep, choking and gasping as he coughs up a plume of pungent smoke.

 

Hilde is practically in tears she's laughing so hard, but she rubs his back and slides off his lap to fetch him a water and a few cough drops. "Suck on this for a bit," she tells him. "The burning will ease up in a while. You sure you've smoked before?"

 

He can barely get words out and his eyes are stinging, watering, nose running. "Yeah, a few times in high school," he manages to get out and she snorts, dragging her nails through his hair.

 

"And that was, what, twenty years ago?"

 

"Almost. I'm an old son of a bitch," he grumbles, coughing a little more. But the burn is starting to go away and he's feeling a little more relaxed, so he tries another hit.

 

This time, he eases up on the inhale.

 

* * *

 

It's quarter to two in the morning when Sam slides up to the domino table, Drax and Gamora in tow. Peter and Natasha come along to watch, with Nebula and a short hairy man they call Rocket as well. Drax has his girlfriend on FaceTime, a pretty soft spoken woman named Mantis who's overseas visiting her dad. They whip out the cards and get settled.

 

"We need one more," Sam says excitedly. He glances around the table and settle on Hilde, who's curled up in Loki's lap nursing a ginger ale and another blunt. Loki doesn't have a clue what happened to the other one when Shuri came to get a hit; all he knows is that sometime after that, Bucky had whipped out a giant bong and several glass pipes, passing them around the apartment. He had one resting at his elbow right now though he hadn't lit it.

 

"I'm not playing spades with your ass no more," Hilde says decidedly. "You take that shit too serious."

 

Sam frowns, cracking his knuckles as he prepares to shuffle. "Spades is serious business, sis. You oughta know that."

 

"I'm not black enough to take it that damn serious," she quips and Sam guffaws.

 

"Uh huh, but ya mama 'nem are from Philly. I mean, whatever you didn't get from your pops side should have more than made up for it on her side."

 

Hilde shrugs. "Ginger Savereau is a god fearing child of Christ. She don't play spades."

 

"Now I know you're lyin'," he says with a grin, but he leaves her be. He turns around to see if he can finangle anyone else into joining the game. And Loki looks about with him. As it stands, everyone else seems to be occupied. Shuri is holded up in a corner with a couple of other people watching YouTube videos and laughing. Bucky (and Darcy, of course) are nursing the sound system with a few of his friends from work. It doesn't really leave anyone else except a dark haired woman named Maria, a friend of Sam's from the VA office, but she's having a serious conversation with Natasha's partner Clint.

 

Later he'll claim it was the weed that made him do it. But he decides then and there that Sam will have his fourth person. He rolls up his sleeves and asks his girlfriend for a hair tie.

 

Hilde rolls the elastic off her wrists, paying him no attention as he pulls his hair up until he leans in and asks to be dealed.

 

"Loki...babe, what are you doing?" she whispers, frowning a bit when Sam hoots and starts handing out cards.

 

He shoots her a cool smile and gets comfortable. "I'm playing spades, sweetheart."

 

Hilde opens her mouth to protest, catches Gamora's eye across the table, and decides instead to simply sigh and resettle herself on Loki's lap. "I hope you know what you're doing," she says in a low voice, shooting him a look that read "you can still back out now."

 

"I do," he says confidently. Not too confidently, because he's not sure how good Sam and Drax are at this, but he's got faith in Gamora and he's played pretty well in the past. Sam goes over the rules quickly, eyeing Loki the entire time and grinning as though this will be an easy win.

 

Loki is proud to say that it is, in fact, _not_.

 

In fact, by the time they've finished their fifth round, it's four to one with Loki and Gamora in the lead. Sam is sweating bullets, griping at Drax as if it's all the man's fault that they're losing. But it's not. It's simply a combination of underestimating the opposing team and not picking a good partner. Drax was not meant for a game like spades. He'd done just fine at dominoes but this was kicking his ass. And subsequently, it was pulling Sam down.

 

The crowd around them had grown as well. Shuri and her friends had abandoned memes and videos to watch. Bucky and Darcy hovered over on Sam's side, nipping at each other's lips and necks ever so often and sharing a orange soda. And Maria had brought Clint over from the couch, joining Natasha to comment quietly on the surprising outcome of the game. Every so often she shot a look towards Sam and offered him a sympathetic but reassuring smile. And though he facilitated between cursing and walking away from the table every few minutes, it'd kept him reasonably calm. Or, at least calmer than usual, per Gamora.

 

"One more round," Sam says but everyone at the table groans. "I mean, six is an even number. Do you really wanna leave it at five-"

 

"Yes, we do," Hilde declares, sliding off Loki's lap with a groan. "I've gotta pee, and I'm tired of watching you lose."

 

Loki's mind has cleared a bit by this point and he stretches back in his chair, pats of congratulations on his back while everyone drifts away from the table. Drax isn't even remotely upset by the loss. He's got Mantis on the phone, laughing loudly about something. It's only when Sam leans across the table does Loki even begin to worry a little. As it turns out, he shouldn't have.

 

"The hell you learn to play like that?" he asks, and then he starts to smile, his whole face lighting up. "I ain't had anyone whip my ass like that in years."

 

"I went to prison for nine months," Loki says casually. "I learned how to play spades and how to fist fight a 300 pound man." He still remembers the bruises and cracked ribs and the death threats and how he'd had to learn to use his slim, lithe figure to his advantage. There's a memory of the older man who'd taken him under his wing telling him to duck and dodge and wear him out.

 

_Speed, lil' Odinson. Speed and patience._

 

"And you're a lawyer now?" Sam asks, picking up the cards and clearing the table of empty drink bottles and cans.

 

"I am."

 

"A varied education then," Sam says with a chuckle and he extends his hand. Loki smiles, then grasps it firmly and shakes it.

 

"You're not too bad, man. Hey, if you're not too busy next weekend, some of the guys are gonna go work out at the gym a few blocks away. You willing to come hang?"

 

Loki hadn't been in a gym since high school and hadn't lifted any weights since his stint in prison. But he wanted to do this, even if it meant he'd be stuck using the treadmill or playing with the tens and fifteens.

 

"Let me give you my number, Sam. Saturdays are free for me."

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky had been spending most of the evening cuddled up to Darcy and hogging the radio. Sometime after the spades game ended, someone else had snatch the aux cord and started blasting old 90's pop hits. Loki watched Shuri and her friends Beth and Ryan attempt to dance along to a Britney Spears song, while Sam and Bucky argued over who played what next.

 

"I really don't care what you play so long as it's loud and thumpin'", Rocket comments, the dark shades he wears obscuring his eyes. Loki has no idea why he's wearing shades in a dark apartment but he doesn't bother asking.

 

"Rock-paper-scissors and see who gets to pick," Nebula suggests, already putting her hand out. "On three."

 

Six people huddle in a circle around the three of them and start the process of elimination until, surprisingly, Loki wins against Rocket with paper over rock. "Your pick man. Just make sure it's none of this teeny bopper bullshit they've got going."

 

"Britney Spears is classic," Beth protests, pouting beside the speakers while Loki pulls out his phone. There's a nice mix of music in his iTunes but he decides to go with Spotify instead; definitely more music there. It takes him a few minutes to figure out which playlist he wants to start with; he's got nearly two hundred defined by mood, setting, and genre and he doesn't want to make the mistake of playing the wrong stuff for the wrong crowd of people.

 

He settles on quickly combining two of his favorites together and with a little nervous energy, he presses shuffle.

 

 _Nobody pray for me_  
_Even a day for me_  
 _Way (yeah, yeah!)_

 

It's like a switch goes off. Bucky's eyes widen and Sam perks up from his lazy perusal of his own cell phone while several other people get off the couch and start bouncing around the room.

 

"Oh, you've fucked up now," Hilde says laughing, leaning into Loki as several guys start hopping next to them, bumping them lightly in their excitement. "Throw some Kendrick on and it's over. I think Buck likes Kendrick more than Gu-"

 

She's cut off when Ryan comes barreling into her side, spilling her water. But Hilde does nothing but laugh, her whole face glowing with happiness and though the young man apologizes, she brushes it off and gives him a quick side hug. "God I wish I were still that young. I remember thinking I could take over the world."

 

"You're not old," Loki counters, over the music.

 

She sighs, flinging droplets of water from her hands. When she looks up at him, there's a sadness in her eyes. He wants to kiss it all away, make her forget about everything that has ever hurt her before.

 

"Maybe not. Feels like I am old, sometimes."

 

He can't argue with that sentiment. There's days he wonders if he's only 35 or if he's actually fifty years older than that.

 

"If it makes you feel better," he says, leaning down so that his mouth is close to her ear, "I understand." He pauses to watch the crowd of energetic, happy people around him, watch Darcy and Gamora laugh beside the couch, watch Nebula and Natasha whispering conspiratorially amongst themselves, and for a moment he doesn't feel like he's weighed down with bad choices from his past or regrets. He looks at Hilde and he doesn't feel anything but wonderful right now.

 

There's probably a little weed still in his system, too, but it's mostly cause of Hilde.

 

"You make me feel like I can do anything," he says softly and she stares up at him for a moment, hazy eyed and a little teary. Her smile is a slow moving thing, tremulous and uneasy as if she's scared she'll cry right in front of everyone so he grips her to him closer, and rubs his hands across the bare skin of her cropped shirt soothingly.

 

The song switches then, from Kendrick Lamar to another SZA song. There's a Kendrick verse on this one too, a slow, sultry ballad that Hilde apparently knows the words to. Her eyes find Gamora's across the room and the two of them start swaying, singing in beautiful voices to the lyrics, as if they'd wrote the music themselves. Loki only watches, smiling when they wrap each other up and dance along. There's a few other couples dancing too; Sam and Maria, Natasha and Clint, and Shuri and Ryan. Bucky and Darcy aren't so much as dancing as they're making out in the corner. And within moments they're disappearing toward the back of the apartment, hanging off of each other as they amble down the hallway.

 

That's ten bucks richer he'll be tonight, he thinks with a smirk.

 

Hilde finds him again, close to the last chorus of the song and wraps her arms about his neck, sliding her fingers into the loose hairs at the nape. She mouths the words and he joins her, making her giggle when he nips at her lips between words.

 

 _Was it worth it?_  
_Would you do it again?_  
_Aren't you tired of always making amends?_

 

"I know ya hate me now," she croons and Loki shakes his head, brushes his nose with hers and whispers against her lips.

 

"I could never."

 

She laughs then, intoxicating and beautiful. "Who could?" she quips, and she moans when he presses his hips into hers, though he'll swear later he hadn't done it on purpose. He doesn't care though. She doesn't pull back, doesn't run away. Instead, she breathes into his ear and grips the strands of hair between her fingers a little tighter. It prickles his scalp in a way that sets his whole body on fire.

 

So much for that missing libido. Apparently, it'd only been on an extended vacation.

 

"You keep teasin' me like that...why? What do you want?"

 

There's a challenge in her voice that he can't resist answering.

 

"You." He slides his hands from her waist to her ass and squeezes, nibbling on her bottom lip. He's vaguely aware that "Papi Pacify" is playing in the background and he wonders if Bucky has an extra bedroom he can use. Hilde reads his mind.

 

"Not in Buck's house," she says laughing. "Dude's like a brother to me."

 

"That explains why you haven't tried-"

 

"Oh my god no, stop, I don't even wanna hear that!"

 

"But do you wanna try _me_?"

 

She blinks at his boldness and her smile is feral now, sharp and dangerous and he loves it.

 

"I've wanted to try you since Wanda's. Take me home, Lackey. Now."

 

* * *

 

 

They barely get past his door, fumbling with keys and their clothes and mouths and hands. She's not wearing a bra under the little crop top, has the tiniest little underwear on under her skinny jeans. Loki doesn't do much thinking during all of this, though he does have the sense to ask about protection.

 

"I've got a condom in my purse, hold on," she says breathlessly, naked on his cool sheets, and he's relieved because he hasn't had a reason to buy any and hadn't thought to.

 

She's stunning underneath her clothes, just like he'd thought she'd be, all soft creamy skin and long limbs. He drags his mouth from her belly up to between her lovely breasts and along her collarbone as she holds the still wrapped condom in one hand.

 

"Want me to put it on for you?" she asks, and he nods, leans over her and lets her tug his boxer briefs down. He's so hard he thinks he'll pass out, and he's preparing for the inevitability that he won't last too long the first time. When she unrolls the condom over the tip of his dick, he's sure he's not going to make it past a few seconds.

 

Her kisses are slow and heady when he crawls over her, warm body on warm body, skin to skin. He's missed this so much, missed being held between the arms of a lover or cradled next to their heartbeat. He realizes he's severely touch deprived; he's almost drowning in how wonderful this feels, just being touched. He hates how desperate he seems, but Hilde doesn't seem to mind at all. Instead, she holds him closer, kisses him deeper, wraps her long legs around his waist and pushes her skin against his.

 

When he presses into her he nearly starts to cry. It's not necessarily because she feels good (because, good lord she does, she does) but simply because he hasn't allowed himself this kind of intimacy in years. Hilde just presses kisses to his face and waits until he's ready to move.

 

He doesn't last long at all, that first time. Maybe five or so thrusts and then it's like a flash goes off in his brain and he chokes out a moan that doesn't sound like himself at all. He groans in disappointment but Hilde just giggles and kisses him and tells him it's alright. "You've got a mouth don't ya?" she asks, and he remembers he does and he also remembers he's really good with that mouth so he slides down her body and gets to work.

 

He's proud that he can reduce her to squeals and sharp curses.

 

By this point he's ready to go again and this time is much, much better. It's passionate and new and a little fumbling but it's wonderful and by the time he's tired and she is too, after about two more rounds and a few exploratory nibbles and bites, he's resting comfortably and sated in his crumpled bed with her napping under his arm.

 

Loki is damn near to nodding off when the phone buzzes. He'd thought he'd put it on do not disturb, or at least on vibrate, and he's somewhat irritated that someone would bother him _now._ So he ignores it, wraps the comforter around the both of them, and drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

He's not really surprised that he wakes before she does. He's always been an early morning riser, even when he was a child. For a few minutes he soaks in the quiet of seven a.m. and snuggles Hilde's sleeping body next to his. She's breathing deep and slow against his chest and it tickles his skin a little but he loves it.

 

His bladder is full to bursting so he gingerly unwinds her from his body and goes to the toilet, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror and staring, dumbfounded.

 

There's hickies on his neck and chest, a scratch on his side, and his hair looks like he's been fighting a bear, but he looks...happy. Healthy, even. There's a color to his skin he hasn't seen since he was a kid, a sort of glow about him that both exhilarates him and puzzles him.

 

But he decides not to dwell too deeply on the matter. Instead, he digs around for a pair of boxers and slips them on, grabs his phone, and leaves Hilde to sleep in while he makes them breakfast.

 

There's not much in the fridge but eggs and some sausages, a few peppers, and half a gallon of orange juice. But it's enough to make omelets and if all else fails, he could Ubereats a big stack of waffles and a tray of fruit from the place down the street. He grabs his phone while the skillet heats up and snorts at the texts he's missed, the multitude of Facebook notifications. There's friend requests from nearly everyone at the party, including Sam and Gamora and a couple of messages, one from Nebula asking him if he'd be interesting in coming to a poetry slam she's doing in a few days.

 

He'll ask Hilde about it; sounds like a good date.

 

His texts are a mix of 'where'd you guys run off to' (Shuri) to 'oh my god Lokes, CALL ME WHEN YOU WAKE UP' (Darcy). He snorts in laughter at the picture Shuri sends him of a passed out Sam on the couch, sometime around 4 am after he and Hilde had left. The kids are stacking whatever they can find on him and taking pictures, probably to post on Instagram. Darcy has called twice, and he's even got a text from Thor asking how the party went.

 

He's got a voicemail too, this one from a number he doesn't quite recognize off hand. The prefix is overseas; he wonders for a moment if it's Heimdall calling to say hello. It's been a while since he'd spoken to Sif's brother and it'd be nice to give him a chat. But when he presses the button to listen, his breath stops for a moment and he gets the same butterflies in his stomach as he always has when he hears Sigyn's voice.

 

"Hey Loki...it's me. I've got a new number, so I figured you wouldn't answer right off. But anyway, how are you? I um...I know it's pretty late there, but I wanted to let you know I'm going to be in New York in about a month...I'm...I'm thinking of leaving Baldwin. It's nothing bad or anything, I'm just not-I don't know. It's not exciting anymore, and I... I'd love to see you again. I know it's been a long time since I've seen you in the flesh and well, I miss you. I miss you a lot, especially right now. I'm bringing the boys with me, if you'd like to meet them. And I'm staying at the Park Lane, probably so...we can maybe do something with them in Central Park. You know, like we used to. Anyway, just give me a call when you get this. Or text me. I'd love to hear from you. Goodbye."

 

He plays the message twice more, standing barefoot in the kitchen as the early morning sun streams through his window. He feels cold and hot and completely confused and he's not sure whether he should reply to her or not.

 

But there's a stirring in his bedroom, a yawn, a stretch and Hilde is calling his name.

 

"In the kitchen, sweetheart," he calls, his voice stronger than he really feels. When she comes around the corner of the hall wearing his tee-shirt and smiling at him sleepily, he knows what he has to do.

 

Loki orders them waffles and fruit and he starts on their omelets, then excuses himself to brush his teeth.

 

He deletes the voicemail and shoves the sound of his ex wife's voice out his mind.

 


	6. Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are loved, adored, and cherished. Thanks so much for reading! <3

For two months, Loki’s life seemed to be perfectly on track.

 

He had a rewarding job, good friends, a brother and sister in law who doted on him, the world’s best therapist, and a girlfriend who blew his mind with how amazing she was every single day. They spent most of their time together exploring the city and each other, long weekends in bed eating waffles and watching Netflix, or nights after he got off work and Hilde got out of class roaming the boroughs. He’d pop up at the café she worked at with lunch for her break, then haul ass back to the office and spend the rest of the day texting her off and on, or swapping memes and videos back and forth in the group chats he’d been added to.

 

There was something so wonderfully normal about his days now. Saturday mornings he spent at the 24 Hour Fitness with Sam and Bucky, occasionally joined by Peter and Drax. His first morning there, he’d been give a quick rundown of rules to abide by, little tips on etiquette, that sort of stuff.

 

“We don’t bother anyone, especially not the ladies unless they ask,” Bucky said, as they warmed up before starting their sets. “No oogling, no groping, none of that bullshit. I know you’re good for this, but it’s something we make sure to remind ourselves of, especially when we get newbies in the gang.”

 

“Gang?” Loki eyed the racks of dumbbells with a mix of trepidation and anticipation. It’d been a while since he’d picked up anything heavier than laundry.

 

“I mean, nothing official,” Sam added, grinning. “We’re not gonna jump you in or anything. But sometimes Pete and Drax come by and every once in a blue moon we’ll get a few of the girls too. Nat’s come by a few times. She seems to like one on one’s though, so it’s usually when her trainer’s out of town.”

 

“So yeah, a gang. We meet up, workout, go eat lunch after. I’ve got a groupchat for what workouts we’re doing what day-I know you said you’re usually busy during the week, but if you get a chance, you can do ‘em on your own time-and meal plans, too.”

 

“You definitely should look into charging, Bucky,” Loki suggests. It doesn’t seem fair that the man is giving out free fitness information when people make a fortune on instagram selling far less. But Bucky frowns and shakes his head.

 

“God, no, why would I do that? Look, getting fit isn’t easy for most folks and neither is holding on to your money. Especially not in this city.”

 

“Especially not,” Sam concurs.

 

“So I mean, if I can help someone out without them needing to part with their hard earned cash, I do it. That’s another rule, Lokes. Never charge someone what you can do for them for free. Especially if it’s not anything to inconvenience you.”

 

He takes that advice into consideration, and when their stretches are done, follows his two new friends to a corner of the weight room to work out arms. Bucky easily picks up the sixty pounders, while Sam grabs a set of fifties and get into position.

 

“I think we’ll start you off with twenty today,” Sam says, and he drops the dumbbells into Loki’s hands. There’s a moment where he wonders if he’d ever had any arm strength period, because two reps into bicep curls, he’s about ready to drop his weights and lay out on the floor.

 

But he perseveres. It takes him longer to make it to 10, and he struggles during the super sets and the triceps dips, but he manages.

 

By the time he leaves the gym, he feels as though he could do anything. He’s energized and happy and absolutely ravenous when they grab lunch at the Chipotle on the corner. But once he makes it home and strips off the sweat soaked, smelly gym clothes he flops back into bed and falls into an exhausted sleep.

 

It’s that high, the one he gets at the gym and in the fitness groupchat and in the main one, the one he gets on Saturday mornings at 7:15 when he wakes to meet the guys at 8:30 that he chases now.

 

One addiction with replaced with another…but maybe this addiction isn’t so bad.

 

Hilde wants to go to Afropunk in August. He’s heard of it, plenty of times, from Darcy who went one year with a friend of hers from work and just from being in the area. But he’s never once thought to go himself; he feels as though he’d stand out a bit too much, and he brings it up when he drops her off after a date one Thursday night. Shuri greets him with a side hug and tosses him a bag of SunChips while Hilde pulls up Hulu on the living room TV so they can binge _Superstore_.

 

“I think you’ll be alright,” she says with a shrug and settles down on the couch under his arm. “I mean, it’s overrun with white folks anyway, so you won’t really stand out much.”

 

“That’s precisely why I feel weird about going.”

 

“And you shouldn’t. Look at it this way; you’re coming with me. You’re my guest, so you’ve got a pass just from that alone.”

 

“Not how it works,” Shuri pipes up, but Hilde rolls her eyes. “I mean, it’s got _Afro_ in the name. I personally think that if you can’t grow a fro you shouldn’t go.”

 

“Uh huh,” Hilde says drily, tugging a bit of her curly hair out of her bun. “Which rules me out-“

 

“Well…who’s fault is that? Not mine. I don’t make the rules, I simply enforce them.” Loki glances to her and the look on his face must be incredibly confused because Shuri bursts out laughing. “Let me amend that, if you can’t rock braids you shouldn’t go.”

 

“I’m not even going to touch that argument,” he says and snags a chip from Hilde’s fingers.

 

“Ay! That was mine!” But she giggles and sucks the salt from her fingers, leans up to kiss him on the jaw. “Fuckin’ thief.”

 

“Do you want it back?” he asks, sticking out his tongue the way he had as a kid when he wanted to irritate Thor. She scoots back a bit and grimaces dramatically, batting away at his hands as he reaches out to pull her closer.

 

“Oh my god, you guys are disgusting,” Shuri groans, sliding down in the recliner next to the sofa. “Aren’t you too old for that kind of nonsense?”

 

“Nope,” Hilde says with a giggle while Loki steals a kiss on her neck. “You’re never too old to be silly.” She glances to her boyfriend, a sly smirk on her face. Loki has a feeling he knows what she’s got up her sleeve and so he snags another chip from the half empty bag, chewing slowly.

 

“You sound a little salty, sis,” Hilde says. “Are you sure you didn’t want any of Loki’s Sun Chip?”

 

Shuri makes a face and then laughs. “Ew, ick, no. I’m not into that grody stuff like you two overgrown kids are.” She pauses, and looks suspiciously between the two. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

 

Hilde tries to play innocent and shakes her head. “Oh no, I was just…you know. Looking out for you. Because if you wanted some chip, I’m pretty sure babe doesn’t mind sharing. You sure you’re good?”

 

Shuri nods slowly and starts to back out of the recliner, looking to make a break for the kitchen but Loki springs up faster than she can run and catches her, tongue at the ready and full of half chewed chip. She squeals, laughing and batting at his shoulders and the three of them laugh till they cry, collapsing on the couch when the giggles finally die down.

 

“So Afropunk?” he says after a quiet few minutes of watching the TV in peace. Shuri grins, and snuggles into Hilde’s right side as Loki tucks his long frame into his girlfriend on her left.

 

“I guess. But no box braids, dude. You ain’t got the melanin.”

* * *

Wanda wants to have dinner with the two of them in a few nights and so Loki tosses around shirts and pants for hours after work when he gets the text, looking for something suitable to wear. It’s supposedly casual, though he knows Jarvis has a habit of wearing sweater vests and khakis even when he’s at home and Wanda is almost always in a dress of some sort. It’s just the kind of people they are; Wanda had told him jokingly a while back that she was a recovering Stevie Nicks fanatic, but Loki wasn’t so sure about the recovering part. There were times he went to the gallery when she was blasting the _Bella Donna_ album loudly, oblivious to anything and everything but the arrangement of the pieces there and the lyrics to “Edge of Seventeen”.

 

Per usual, he gave Darcy a call for her advice, though she was a little distracted.

 

“So I’m thinking a pair of slacks and a button down.”

 

“That’s what you always wear, dude,” Darcy says over the phone. There’s a little shuffling around and a grunt and he make a face, wondering just exactly what she was doing. He really wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask; he’d called one evening just to catch up and caught her in the middle of a little one on one with Bucky.

 

“Jesus, I did not realize paint was so damned heavy,” she says breathlessly, and he’s a little relieved to know she’s not up to anything more...intimate. “We’ve got to prime the wall first before we can do the first coats cause for whatever reason, Buck’s walls are brown. Who paints their walls brown?”

 

“People in the seventies, doll,” Loki hears in the background. “You talkin’ to Loke?”

 

“Uh huh. Ay, you’re on speaker, my man. Say hi!”

 

“Hi,” he pipes up, amused. “How is the painting going?”

 

“It’s goin’,” Bucky says, and Loki can hear the grin in the voice. “Though I’m fairly certain if I let this chick have her way, she’ll redecorate my whole damned loft.”

 

“Sounds about right. She tried doing my apartment before I moved in, but I already had my ideas in place-”

 

“Look, I’m just saying that the stained glass backdrop in the kitchen would have been marvelous,” Darcy protests, and Loki can’t help but laugh. “But no, you had to go for boring steel grey tile.”

 

“It’s _frosted_ grey, Darcy,” Loki corrects, and he sighs at the state of his room. There are clothes everywhere and he still isn’t comfortable with what he’s got to put together. He wonders if maybe he needs to do another shopping trip; there’s way too many black boots in the closet and not enough of them are casual.

 

“Whatever it is, it’s boring. Bucky’s gonna do broken beer bottle glass, if he lets me have my way.” There’s a girlish giggle and Loki has a sudden image of his friend having her neck nibbled on. It makes him feel odd, in the same way that knowing your sibling gets laid does.

 

“I’m so _not_ letting her have her way,” Bucky declares but Loki has a feeling that he probably will.

 

“Look, I’ll let the two of you get back to your craftsmanship. I’m going to go find something on Pinterest, Darcy. Talk to you later?”

 

“Oh definitely!” There’s another giggle and what sounds like something heavy being dropped. Loki rubs his neck and sighs. “Oh, and let me know how the dinner goes!”

* * *

He comes up with a simple outfit for the dinner, a slim pair of dark jeans with black motorcycle boots he’d forgotten he had and a blue button down. It’s him, if anything, and not at all adventurous, but it’ll work. There’s still something missing, he feels, as he reorganizes his closet and straightens his room, but he can’t quite figure out what.

 

There’s three days before he has to wear anything, though, so he figures he’ll find whatever that is by then. And if not...it’s just dinner. It’s not that big a deal. For whatever reason, though, he wants to impress the Maximoffs. It’s the first real super couple-y thing he and Hilde have done so far. Mostly, they’ve done casual little lunches out with her friends and one with Thor and Sif that had gone remarkably well. The Odinsons had absolutely loved Hilde, Sif especially, and the two women disappeared after lunch to wander around downtown Manhattan and look at baby stuff together.

 

“She’s not even maternal,” Loki had commented, not missing the very strange look that Thor shot his way.

 

“She’s not?”

 

“No. Not at all.”

 

“You sure about that?”

 

Loki had blinked at the question, and wondered if his brother saw something he didn’t. He put it on the backburner for later; they’d not even been together long enough to get into all of that jazz.

 

But the idea of Hilde and babies had stuck with him no matter how hard he’d tried to shake it. He didn’t say a word to her, however. He didn’t want to scare her off.

 

After sticking his dinner outfit in the back of the closet and hanging all his pants and shirts back up, he dug around the kitchen for something to eat. Hilde was working that evening, so no date night (and really, they needed to slow down on the whole eating out thing). He had plans to take her somewhere special for her graduation that next Saturday and night alone wasn’t going to hurt, he knew. But it was so strange to be alone after two months of being surrounded by people who liked him and wanted to be with him. Independence had been one of his few redeeming qualities in the very bitter past, when all he had was himself and his regrets. And now...now, he had people a phone call away he could spend time with whenever he got lonely. He had active group chats that he could drop into on nights when he couldn’t see Hilde, gym buddies, a therapist who loved gushing about her sex life, and a girlfriend who routinely sent him silly pictures in the middle of court to keep his spirits up.

 

He really didn’t like thinking of how he’d manage without any of that now. And he hated the idea that he wouldn’t be able to. It scared him a bit.

 

With a sigh, he slammed the fridge and checked his phone for lack of anything to cook and anything else to do. The gym chat was mostly silent, as was expected on a weekday night but the main line was a back and forth between Shuri, Gamora and Nat about Shuri’s date with a kid named Peter the other night. Loki recognized the name; Peter Parker was the winner of Tony Stark’s coveted and lucrative internship at Stark Industries a few years back and a genius in his own right. He now served as lead design coordinator for Stark and had met Shuri at a seminar a few weeks before.

 

Originally, Loki had been unsure of how to reply to the group chat when he wasn’t tagged or hadn’t started the thread, but he’d been assured by Gamora that jumping right in was perfectly fine.

 

“If we wanted to have a private chat, we would,” she had told him at Groot’s birthday party. “Trust me. There’s shit we talk about we don’t want the guys to know because some of them can’t keep their mouths shut-”

 

Her gaze had fallen pointedly to Sam, who was twirling the boy around, pretending to be a jet. She gave Loki a meaningful look as he laughed.

 

“That, and I’m pretty sure none of you care about period cramps and vaginal discharge.”  

 

So as he read back through the chat for context clues on how the date went (fine, but a little awkward), he anticipated what sort of question he could ask since the others had just about covered everything.

 

> N: Is he tall? He looks tall.
> 
> S: Yeah, taller than I am, but hell, that’s not hard to accomplish. He’s about six foot? I mean, give or take an inch.
> 
> G: Cute? His pics look cute, in that dorky white guy kind of way.
> 
> S: Not bad looking at all. He’s just fidgety. He kept playing with his hands.
> 
> G: He so likes you, Shuri. I say go for that second date.
> 
> S: I mean yeah, I probably will. It’s not like anyone else is biting right now.
> 
> G: Chick, he’s a genius. He’s probably the only guy who can keep up with you and he’s age appropriate!
> 
> N: true...but don’t force it if it isn’t there. Just keep an open mind and if it doesn’t work, at least you have another friend and more connections.
> 
> G: Nat, she’s a princess, she doesn’t need connections lol
> 
> L: you could always use connections, regardless
> 
> S: hey fave white boi lol. How ya doing? You catch everything up top?
> 
> L: I did. Sounds like you had a decent date.
> 
> S: Decent. That’s the word for it lol
> 
> G: groan. C’mon Loki, you should be encouraging her. That way she’s out the house when you and Hilde are doing the get down.
> 
> S: Oh my god Mora stooooop
> 
> N:
> 
> G: I’m just saying. There’s a reason Hilde is never home now
> 
> L: no comment. I’m pleading the fifth lol
> 
> S: Hilde is like my sister, you guys, stop it!
> 
> L: now you know my pain. I was on the phone with Darcy earlier. Guess what she was doing?
> 
> N: Something with Buck. they’re attached at the hip
> 
> L: is he always like that with his girlfriends?
> 
> G: yep
> 
> S: lol yes
> 
> N: mmhm. Though girlfriend is a strong term. Lady friends? It’s usually not that serious, just flings.  I mean, Buck’s not a...what’s the word?
> 
> S: womanizer?
> 
> N: yeah. He’s not that. He just really likes romance. And women. And men.
> 
> L: wait. So you’re saying i may have had a chance?!
> 
> S:  dude, totally could have had a chance. Still might if Hilde gives you a hallpass
> 
> H: I’m down for a hallpass, tbh. Buck Nasty would so go for it
> 
> G: HILDEEEEE. Hey babe, you off yet?
> 
> H: Nope. got another hour to go. Baby @ _Loki O_ you hungry?
> 
> L: Yep. Nothing at home to cook :(
> 
> H: swing by. I got some stuff set back for you if you want it. Turkey sandwich and some fries. They’re closing the fryer in a few minutes, so hurry up
> 
> L: on my way. <3
> 
> G: uh, are we invited too? I need to get out the house. Groot’s nearly done with this cold, thank god, and Pete finally got him to sleep. And he didn’t cook today so it’s either whip out something or eat more Frosted Flakes
> 
> N: I’m hungry and bored too, tbh...what’s the address to the diner again, Hilde?
> 
> S: I can come get you Nat. I’m coming too, if this is an open invitation
> 
> H: lol it is, come on. And take a pic of your outfit for the dinner, babe. I wanna see.

* * *

Dinner with the ladies had been a blast. Hilde and the cook, a burly man named Deandre, whipped them all up a few off-the-menu specials including the turkey sandwich that she’d saved for Loki. They all sat in the darkened diner long after closing, chatting and laughing, and someone turned the jukebox on where Hilde and Loki slow danced to “More Than Words”, a muffin in Hilde’s hand, and a kiss on her lips for Loki’s jaw.

 

It was nights like that, simple and spur of the moment little things, that made his entire life worth living now.

 

And so he pointedly ignored the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that said something would go wrong soon. Something always went wrong, because this was him and he could never been too far from disaster.

 

He lay curled in bed with Hilde under his arm, naked and sated and near asleep when his phone went off. It was the generic ringtone he kept for unknown numbers and something inside him jumped and panicked. The roiling pit of anxiety in his belly only grew as the phone rang and his hands fumbled along the night stand to pick it up.

 

“Loki, what’s going on? Who the hell is calling this late at night?”

 

He glanced at the number. It wasn’t familiar, but it wasn’t an overseas one as he’d, for a split second, thought. Sighing, he answered and hoped to god it was a misdial.

 

If only he could be so lucky.

 

“Thank god you picked up,” he heard on the other end, panic and fear laced through the deep voice of his brother. The very first thought in his head was a moment ten years before, when Thor had called him like this to tell him their mother had passed out and was in the hospital unconscious. That was when they’d found the cancer. And it had spread too fast, too aggressively. Loki shuddered, cognizant that _that_ was the past and this was _now_ and that Frigga was resting in peace. At least he hoped. God he hoped she was.

 

“Thor...what’s going on, are you okay? Is...is Sif-”

 

“She’s uh...they’ve got her in the back and they-” Thor broke off with what sounded like a sob and Loki’s blood ran cold.

 

Oh no. _No no no_.

 

“She’s lost a lot of blood and they think she’s gonna...Loki I can’t do this alone, please, I need-”

 

Hilde, wide eyed and awake now, began sorting through the pile of clothes on the floor and tossed them toward him wordlessly. She too began to dress, as Loki put Thor on speaker phone and got the details. They were a jumbled mess and he could scarcely make out what was said ( _She was fine this evening, nodded off on the couch...she woke up soaked and she said something wasn’t right_ ) but it was enough to know that Sif was in very real danger of losing the baby.

 

His hands clenched around his jeans as he tugged them on and for a very long harrowing moment he wasn’t in his apartment in Brooklyn. He was somewhere in Manhattan, past due rent bills piled up on the kitchen counter, dishes crusted over in the sink. It was dark and deathly quiet, too quiet, no TV or radio or the chatter of Sigyn on the phone with one of her many ‘friends’. Instead, there was nothing but the _drip drip drip_ of a leaking faucet in the bathroom, and the buzz of silence that would haunt him for years after.

 

And in the tub, blood, _so much blood_ , a pale slender woman with dark hair and glassy eyes and a sob in her throat. _I’m sorry..I’m so sorry…_

 

“Loki? Brother? Are you there?”

 

He could hear Thor calling for him distantly over the speaker, but it wasn’t until Hilde placed a hand on his back and rubbed it soothingly did he come back to himself.

 

“Hey. Breathe, baby. Slow and deep. Look at me.” He did, meeting her worried eyes with tears in his own.

 

“You’re here with me. We’re gonna go to the hospital, it’ll be okay.” He nods though he’s not sure if he believes it. She grasps his face and makes him look at her.  “It’ll be okay.” She took the phone from his hands and he slowly put on his shirt, almost mechanically as his hands shook and the memory faded. “Hey, Thor? It’s Hilde. I’m coming with him, we’ll be over in a few, okay?”

 

Loki took one steadying breath after the other and focused on the sound of Hilde’s voice until the memories from years ago weren’t so vivid. He didn’t have time for this; there was more at stake than his own mistakes and regrets. He stuffed every last one of his feelings down and grasped Hilde’s hand, steeled his heart and prayed for a little mercy for Sif, for Thor, for his unborn niece or nephew.

 

_Please God, for them, if not for me._


	7. Dark Umber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much adored and appreciated! There's a few trigger warnings in this chapter: implied references to rape, miscarriage, and child abuse. They are slight, and I tried not to make them too graphic, as I don't want to trigger anyone who may have issues with those types of themes.
> 
> If those are too much for you, feel free to skip this chapter and I'll give you a quick summary of what happened instead. Just message me on tumblr. <3

He hates hospitals.

 

Hates them. _Hates_.

 

Hate may very well be an understatement, truly. Nothing good ever came from a hospital, not in his life, not even the births of those he loved. He’d been born in a halfway house, apparently, and Thor the old Asgardian way-at home in the cozy comfort of Frigga and Odin’s bed. Sif had been born on the side of the highway in the backseat of her birth mother’s old sedan and Darcy had the hilarious story of her mother birthing her at a Christmas party for work.

 

The only thing he’d gotten out of a hospital was grief. His mother had died in one, his ex wife had nearly died in one, and he’d gone through the worst withdrawals of his life in one.

 

But for Sif, he could stand to sit here. She needed him right now and so did Thor. And he had Hilde with him, so he could keep the panic attack at bay if he concentrated on _Everybody Hates Chris_ playing on the television or the feel of her warm hand in his. She hadn’t said much since they got here, only kept squeezing his fingers to let him know she was standing beside him. It meant so very much to him at that moment and he would love her forever for it.

 

And it was there, in that hospital, cold and bleak and quiet, that he realized he’d fallen in love with her. It wasn’t the dramatic and passion fueled love he’d experienced with Sigyn, but it was love. Strong, steady, true. He glanced over at her profile and let his eyes map the lines of her face and the curve of her cheek, and he felt his body warm in spite of his anxiety and fear.

 

She turns then and greets him with soft eyes and a gentle smile. “You okay?”

 

“I’m managing.”

 

He was. They’d gotten the bleeding under control and Sif was stable and somehow, some way, she’d managed to not lose the baby. But she was still being checked out and they were running tests so he couldn’t go see her just yet. Thor had come out earlier, about fifteen minutes past with a tear streaked face and red rimmed eyes, but there was hope in them and that was all Loki needed to see. He had tried so very hard not to burst into tears right there in the waiting room; somehow he’d managed to keep the sobs down to a prickle of tears and had wiped at his eyes hastily when he got up from the chair to hug his brother tightly.

 

“Need me to do anything?” Hilde asks, but Loki shakes his head. She’d done so much already. It was almost morning and she was tired, he knew, and had another shift in a few hours and all he wanted was for her to go home and rest but she wouldn’t leave him.

 

He loved her. So much, good god, did he.

 

“Get a nap before you go to work, sweetheart,” he insisted, once more in case she’d agree. Of course, she didn’t. Stubborn and hardheaded, she only grinned tiredly and tried to suppress her yawn.

 

“Ain’t got a shift till tonight. I asked Nina to switch with me and she agreed. She wants extra hours, anyhow. And look, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I wasn’t here?”

 

“The reasonable kind,” he says with a slight smile and she shakes her head, amused.

 

“Nah. That’d make me a selfish little shit. I’m not selfish. Not at all.”

 

And he couldn’t agree more. So he pulls her hand to his mouth and presses a kiss there and holds it tight as they watch television and wait.

 

It’s another twenty minutes before Thor comes back out. He looks a mess, in his pajamas and exhausted, but there’s a smile on his face and he seems much more upbeat than before.

 

“She’s asking for you, brother,” he tells Loki, and he plops down on the seat next to Hilde, leans back in the chair, and lets out a long breath. “Said she wanted to tell you something before she goes under.”

 

“Goes under?”

 

“She’s tired. Doctor says she needs all the rest she can get  and so she’ll probably be out like a light in a few minutes.”

 

“Ah.”

 

He gets up then and unravels his hand from Hilde and watches out the corner of his eye as his girlfriend leans over and offers some of that comfort and humor to Thor and his heart swells. He walks down the hall and to the left and to Sif’s room, where she’s propped up in bed and tucked in like a child, and he knows this is all Thor’s doing. Loki wants to laugh just then, but he’s afraid of breaking the silence, afraid it’d be too garish and harsh in this solemn environment.

 

So instead, he sits at the chair beside the bed and when Sif’s slender hand shoots out to his, he takes it.

 

“They gave me bed rest,” she says, her voice raspy and cracked, and he knows she’d been crying in her panic. It makes his chest ache. Her arm is draped across her eyes and she sucks in a slow breath before she talks again. “I can’t get up and move for the remainder of my pregnancy, which is going to suck something terrible because I hate not moving. You know me.”

 

“I do. When you broke your leg that time when we were 10 and you had to stay inside for weeks, you were so insufferable.”

 

She laughs then, her hand curling around her softly swelling belly instinctively. “Six weeks. Six weeks of nothing but bad soap operas and crossword puzzles with Mum.” She moves her arm from her eyes and looks at him and there is so much fear still in her eyes that Loki can’t help but lean in closer and squeeze her hand tight. “Six months this time. I suppose I should see about queueing up episodes of The Young and the Restless from way back, huh?”

 

And then she starts to cry and Loki can’t help but cry with her, though his tears are silent and hers the subtle shake of someone who’d already cried so much.

 

“God, Loki…I almost lost him. I almost…I have never been that terrified, I don’t think. Perhaps once before but-“

 

“Sif. Hey. You’ll be fine. We’ll all pitch in and wait on you hand and foot and you and that baby will be just fine.”

 

She nods, blinks furiously, and bites her lip. “I know. Doctor says I’ll be okay so long as I take it easy. Trust me, if it means that I can’t move for the next year except to take a piss, that’s what I’ll do.”

 

She rubs her eyes with her free hand and smiles at him again. “Thank you. So much. I know this is probably hard for you to do.”

 

He shakes his head, though it is hard, because he doesn’t want her thinking he isn’t strong enough to deal with the ghosts of his past. He’s not quite as strong as he wants to be…but he’s managed to get this far.

 

“I’m fine. Promise.”

 

“Hilde out there with you?”

 

“She drove me. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her. I couldn’t think well enough to get myself here and she-“

 

Sif sits up a bit in the bed and stares at him hard and he cuts off what he’s saying to listen. She looks so damned tired, but there’s a fury to her that he’s always loved, even when they were kids. He wishes not for the first time that she’d been his sister by blood and not just by marriage. But blood wasn’t always the tie that mattered, he’d found out. Frigga hadn’t birthed him, but god help whomever dared tell him she wasn’t his mother. And the same applied for Sif and by extension, Heimdall as well.

 

“You hold on to that girl,” she says, her voice strong and steady. Loki blinks but doesn’t open his mouth to say a word, even when her hand squeezes his so hard he wants to wince. “You do everything in your power to keep her close to you. She’s so good for you…she’s…” Sif swallows and licks her chapped lips so Loki digs around in his pants pocket to find his Chapstick and offer it to her. She leans forward and he pops the cap and applies it, grinning a bit when she sighs in relief.

 

“ _God_ that’s so much better.”

 

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

 

She shrugs, and leans back in her bed. “Wasn’t on my mind, really.” She keeps her gaze on his and though her face softens, her eyes remain just as fierce and bright. “I meant what I said, by the way. Don’t fuck this up.”

 

“Yes, mother.”

 

She snorts, a smirk on her lips as she lies back and glances out the window. Morning sunshine starts to peak through the blinds and she sighs as she gets comfortable as she can.

 

“By the way…”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Heim called the other day-“

 

“Has Thor let him know-“

 

“Oh yes, he’s on his way. Will be here first thing in the morning, I think. Oh hell…it _is_ morning. Probably this afternoon then? I’m not sure. But that’s…sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

 

Sif turns back to him then and her face is serious. He gets an odd feeling in his gut and an even sharper one when she finally tells him what’s going on.

 

“Sigyn is on her way to New York.”

* * *

 

Loki lets Hilde spend the morning at his place, where she curls up in bed in one of his tee shirts and falls fast asleep. He’s too anxious to do any sleeping, so he decides to work from home that day. He’s going over the details of a case-a child molestation trial that both fuels him to keep at this work and fix it and makes him want to murder-when his phone buzzes on the kitchen counter. Something tells him to ignore it, but then he thinks perhaps it’s the hospital, or Thor, or even work so he untangles himself from the couch, mindful of the papers around him, and grabs his phone.

 

“‘Ello. Odinson speaking.”

 

There’s a rustle on the other line and he frowns, wondering if perhaps this is a wrong number. It’s not one he recognizes, that’s for sure. But then he hears a voice he hadn’t in _years_ and his skin prickles and he can feel his body break out into a cold sweat.

 

“God, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

 

The cadence is still the same-that odd sing song voice that never failed to make his blood run cold. His mind stumbles back to that voice in his ear, a hand on his throat, his underwear and uniform pushed down around his ankles so he can’t run away and he wants to vomit. He can’t say anything, can’t speak a word. He can only hold the phone to his ear and freeze in panic.

 

“Loki? I know you’re there. Look, since I’ve got your attention-and I do, I can tell…you’re doing that little breathing thing where you get all stammered and hitched up…so cute-I’m going to tell you this: I will be in town for…oh, a few days-“

 

“How did you get my number?”

 

Somehow, in the man’s incessant rambling, Loki found the courage to finally speak, and when he did, he was surprised at how very angry he sounded. Well, maybe not that surprised, but a little startled.

 

“Whatever do you _mean_ , how did I get your…look. It’s public record, you know. Your work number, that is. It wasn’t hard finding where you worked, either. How many people in the New York Metropolitan Area do you believe are named Loki? Not many. Probably hovers in the teens on any given day, but I have a feeling it’ll change. Odd names are the new normal, you know. These new parents are …they’re something else-“

 

“What the fuck do you want? Why are you calling me?”

 

There was a scoff on the other end as if he couldn’t believe that Loki didn’t know what he wanted.

 

“Still a foul mouthed little firecracker, after all these years.” He chuckled, the darkness of it seeping through even over the phone and Loki could feel bile rising once again. He wanted to hurl the phone against the wall and scream but he couldn’t move. Distantly he heard his bedroom door open. “You know, that’s what I adored about you the most. That mouth of yours. And it always ran a mile a minute. Even when I had you gagged in my office that time, do you remember?”

 

Loki remembered, though he so desperately wished he didn’t. He’d buried this, all those memories, after his first sessions with Darcy and hadn’t touched them sense. And now, it was all flooding back to him. The shame, the anger, the pain, the betrayal of having all of that swept under the rug by his father to save face. _We can’t take this to trial, Loki. You were willing. You went along with it. Do you know how much money I donate to that school? He’s been fired, you’ll be fine._

 

“You remember,” he hears, and he’s only vaguely aware of Hilde coming down the hall, or that his hands are shaking. “And because you remember-vividly, I’m sure…I leave quite the impression-you’ll drop your case and move on to something else. I’m sure there’s some inner city child being neglected by their hoodrat mother you can go save. Leave this one alone.”

 

Whatever fear he’d felt at that moment turned into rage so white hot and blinding that he couldn’t see straight.

 

“Are you threatening me, Gast? Why are you so invested?”

 

It was then that Loki realized that the case being brought against the janitor of the prep school would possibly be going in a different route. He had some digging to do, and no fear or old traumas would be holding him back.

 

“I’m not…oh, god good, boy. I’m not _threatening_ you. That’s such an ugly word. I’m simply…suggesting. Leave the case be. It’ll be good for everyone involved if you just drop it. I mean, would you really want to drag that poor girl through all of that agony just to put someone behind bars for maybe ten years?” Another scoff and then a laugh, as if the whole idea of justice for the child was absurd. “He’ll get out of prison and she’ll grow up and marry some chode with a good office job and have a mental breakdown when he runs into her at the singles bar after her divorce. I mean, you’ll save everyone a bit of pain if you just leave this be.”

 

“Too bad about that,” Loki says hotly, pacing his living room floor. Hilde stands near the bar and eyes him worriedly. “Whatever you’re up to, whatever ties you have to this case, I will find it-“

 

“And you’ll pay dearly for it if you do.”

 

There were no silky, slick notes in his voice then, only an ice cold promise of misery and pain if Loki didn’t comply. And for a long moment, he truly considered the kind of terror that En Dwi Gast could put him through if he didn’t drop the case like the man wanted. But his sense of right and of justice and his anger burned hotter than all that so pushed it all down and pulled every ounce of courage he had within him to the front.

 

“I’m an Odinson, asshole,” he grits out, cognizant of the last name he’d taken as a teenager, Laufeyson, a name to distance himself from his brother and his father, and the last name he now wore proudly no matter Odin’s sins because Thor was an Odinson and he was proud to be his brother. “We’ve never had a problem paying.”

 

And he hung up the phone, veritably throwing it half across his apartment until it clattered and clacked on the kitchen floor as he flopped down onto the couch into a puddle, drained and so very tired.

 

“Loki? Babe, what…”

 

He shakes his head. He doesn’t really have the words right now. All he knows is that he has to win this case and fight this man because if he doesn’t…

 

“Hey.”

 

Hilde places a warm hand on his arm, slides it slowly and softly up to his shoulder and squeezes, her eyes trying to hold his as they dart about the room unseeing. He catches her brown eyes and holds them, anchors himself, sucks in oxygen like he’s dying. If he can keep himself tethered to right now, to _her_ , he can do this. He’s got so much work to do…so much.

 

“I’m here, babe. Talk to me. What was all that about, huh?”

 

Her voice is soothing, her hands calming, and he breathes in and out, deep and slow, until he can feel his pulse slowing and his hands quit shaking.

 

“Did I ever tell you about my junior year of high school?” he starts, swallowing thickly and wishing he had something stronger than the bottle of water that rested on the coffee table before him. He wanted hard liquor and a needle, so bad he could almost taste the burn and feel the rush, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Gast wasn’t worth relapsing, nothing was worth that. Instead, Loki clenches his jaw tight and pulls Hilde into his arms and holds her there tight.

 

“Not really, no. You said you’d gotten into some trouble…and that you’d found out about the adoption, came out…”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I uh…all of that happened.”

 

Hilde settles a bit more comfortably on the couch beside him and waits patiently for him to continue. For a moment, it’s enough that she’s there, solid and real, but a very real fear creeps up inside him that maybe she shouldn’t be. Maybe she should be somewhere far from him because this could get bad and he doesn’t want her involved. But for the time being, he pushes it down and wills his body to relax so he can tell the story.

 

“I didn’t grow up wanting to be a lawyer.”

 

Hilde smiles. “You wanted to be a playwright, yeah.”

 

“And there was so much going on at home, and so I…I retreated to books and the theater like I always did. Our drama teacher at school…his name was Gast. En Dwi Gast. And he took a shine to me, took an interest that my father didn’t have the time or the care to take in me.”

 

Loki gathers his thoughts and turns to her and her concerned loving face, and he tells her _everything_.

* * *

 

She’s so quiet when he finishes, that he’s almost certain she’s going to grab her clothes and leave his apartment and tell him she’s not ready for this or him or all his trauma.

 

But instead, Hilde leans forward and grabs the lukewarm bottle of water and gulps it down. She sits on the couch, her fingers tapping against her thigh and her eyes wet with unshed tears and then she shakes her head and a sob comes out. His first instinct is to tug her close and ask what’s wrong.

 

“He…he fuckin’… _raped you_ …and nobody cared? Nobody gave enough shits to try and… _fuck_ , Loki! For a year, he just…” She scrubs at her face but it’s no use. She’s full on crying now, angrily, and he doesn’t know what to do except let her.

 

Maybe she’s crying the tears he couldn’t. Maybe she’s drawing his anger out in ways he wasn’t able to. He’d buried, or tried to bury, all that pain under bumps of cocaine and shoots of heroin and liquor and thought that loving Sigyn would suffice but it hadn’t. It hadn’t been enough.

 

“Oh my god. I _worked_ for that bastard and didn't know he was...oh god, I’m going to hunt him down. I’m going to _murder_ him-“

 

“Shhh, sweetheart, don’t…don’t say that. I mean, I wouldn’t stop you. I’d probably watch with pleasure, trust me.” He doesn’t like how dark his voice is when he says that, because that’s a slippery slope to another trail and more so called self defense and he doesn’t want to put Thor through all of that again. “But it won’t do either of us any good. Winning this case will. He’s involved some kind of way and I have to find out how.”

 

She nods, her spine straightening with purpose. “Okay. Okay, I just…let me help you. I mean, I’m no paralegal or anything but I may have some connections-“

 

“No.”

 

“What? Why? I know this guy, okay, I can help take him down.”

 

“You’ve got so much going on already, love. I don’t want…I don’t want to drag you in to this.”

 

“But you’re not! I’m here. I’m yours and I want to help you.”

 

He shakes his head again and she scoffs, flops back against the cushions and eyes him with pity. “Why? You don’t have to do this alone.”

 

He does, though. He can’t get anyone else mixed up in all this. It’s dangerous and dirty and he won’t sully his Hilde by putting her through any of this mess. And then he thinks about what she’d just said and it strikes him that she’d said she was his.

 

“You’re mine?”

 

Hilde blinks, taken aback by the comment at first. “I uh. Huh?”

 

“You told me,” Loki says, pulling her bodily into his lap and wiping tears from her cheeks, “that you were here, and you were mine.” He doesn’t bring up the part about her helping him again. He thinks maybe he can distract her from all of that. “What did you mean?”

 

She blushes then, a pretty shade of pink and he can’t stop himself from leaning forward and kissing her jawline, his hands smoothing along her sides as his shirt rides up her thighs.

 

“I meant…well.” She shrugs, as if it’s no big deal, but he knows it is. And his heart thumps. He thinks he knows what she meant and if it’s what he thinks it is, he wants to tell her he means the same.

 

“Hilde…sweetheart.”

 

“I meant that I’m here for you. I’m your friend and would be even if I weren’t your girlfriend. I…I care about you, okay? A lot.”

 

Well, it wasn’t exactly a declaration of her undying love but it was more than he’d ever expected from anyone and it made him smile. “Well good. I care about you quite a lot as well.”

 

She grins then, in spite of her tears and leans forward to kiss him sweetly, her lips soft and warm against his. For a while, he forgets everything else but her, as he lies back in the couch and brings her with him. He’s content to just touch her for a long while, kiss her and brush strands of unruly hair from her face. To tell her that she’s beautiful and laugh when she tells him she knows.

 

She finally wrenches free of his hold a few hours later, after a nap, to make them sandwiches and soup for lunch. It’s almost time for her to leave for work and she's still got to swing by her place and grab her work clothes, so he bundles the food up and calls an uber. They eat in the backseat of the car, listening to Bollywood music and laughing along as the driver tells them corny joke after corny joke.

 

He stays long enough for her to shower and dress, then walks her the couple of blocks from her place to her job. She's still got another fifteen minutes left before she clocks in, and it's slow, so she fixes him a coffee and sits in the plasticine booth beside him as he talks quietly about Sif and the baby.

 

"Bed rest for six months sounds like hell," Hilde says sympathetically, and Loki smiles.

 

"Especially for Sif. She's always been on the go, active, moving about. When we were in high school, the summer before her dad moved them back to the UK, she wanted to go for a road trip across the country. Of course, our parents wouldn't allow us to. We were kids, barely legal driving age in Thor's case. Sif had her permit, but I hadn't even taken driver's education yet. We had to get Thor's friend Bruce to take us most places, and even that was a stretch because Bruce had to use his mother's car. But somehow, we scraped up enough money for Amtrak tickets, convinced our cousin Fandral to come along, and took off in the middle of the night toward the west coast. We ended up in Chicago before Mother and Father found out where we'd run off to."

 

Hilde laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder. The doorbell chimed behind him and an older couple walked in before settling in a booth on the opposite side of the diner.

 

"And all of this was Sif's idea?"

 

"She orchestrated the entire thing. Bought the tickets and planned the itinerary, even arranged for the cab that took us to the train station. God, her parents were so mad...they all thought it was my fault." He shook his head and chuckled at the memory, of a screaming Sif defending him and pressed in front of Thor and Fandral as the three kids kept their heads down and their mouths shut. "Thor and I were grounded for months...Fan got off with having to run laps everyday for two weeks. I don't know if Sif ever really got any of her privileges back after that, at least not till she graduated and went off to uni. And we never did make it to California. Still haven't been, either...maybe we can take the baby when he's a little older. That'd be nice."

 

If everything went fine and he survived this trial, that is. He didn't say it aloud but he knew Hilde picked up on it.

 

"And you'll come with us, yeah?" he adds, when the quiet of the diner turns into the late afternoon clamor of hungry people. She's got to clock in in just a minute, so she slides out the booth and smooths her uniform down, making sure the bow on her apron is tight and neat.

 

"If you want me to, sure."

 

"I want you to." _I love you, Brunnhilde_ , he wants to say, but he keeps that to himself until the time is right. It's only been two and a half months...he needs to slow down.

 

He watches her leave the booth and go to the back to start her shift, settles back into his seat, and sips the remainder of his cooled coffee. It's still bright out, though the sky has a golden tint to it and the street is busy, the diner filling. Sometime around six, he quietly gets up and leaves his spot, catches his girlfriend's eye over the tray she carries, and with a smile and a wink, he leaves to head home.

 

He's tired, but he doesn't want to go to the quiet solitude of his apartment. Instead, he dips into the Starbucks down the street and sits out on the patio as the hot New York day settles into a warm New York evening. He checks the group chats for the first time in hours, responds to a few messages asking how his sister in law is doing, and lets Wanda and Jarvis know he and Hilde will have to reschedule the dinner for next week. She's more than understanding, and invites him over for brunch that Sunday instead, as they'll be heading upstate to visit her brother the next week. Hilde's free that Sunday, so he agrees, screenshots the message, and sends it on over to her phone. 

 

 

> _Brunch is such a white person thing_
> 
> then only do half a brunch
> 
> _oh my god lmaooo! WHO GAVE U THE RIGHT_

  

He laughs, in spite of the rolling knot of dread in his gut, and then pops over to check in on Sif.

 

>  
> 
> any updates?
> 
> _she's fine brother. still napping, though she was awake for a few min. heim is here!!! went and got him about an hour before and she will be so happy to see him when she wakes again. he says he'll be in for a while so come over to the house and lets have drinks._
> 
> good. let me know when and i'll pencil it in
> 
> _will do. get some rest. we love u._

 

That little message nearly brought tears to his eyes for reasons he couldn't quite articulate, even in his head. He popped back over to text Hilde back, sniffling as he did, and laughed out loud at the pic she'd sent. She stood outside the diner with a scowl on her pretty face.

 

 

> you look so done, sweetheart
> 
> _I am! the only fuckin' waitress for all these people and I can't piss without getting yelled at and my feet fuckin' hurt_
> 
> want me to come help? I'm not much of a waiter but I can try
> 
> _:) nah...I got this. he's gonna pay me double or i'm plopping my ass in a booth and not movin. let me go. ttyl <3_

 

With a sigh, Loki moves to put his phone in his pocket, maybe order another flat white and then go on back to Brooklyn. But there's a ping in the group chat before he can and he smiles to see that it's Bucky. 

 

>  
> 
> _u busy dude?_
> 
> no. not at all.
> 
> _wanna come over and play a little fortnite? darcy is out with her bestie from college and everybody else apparently has a life or something._
> 
> lol no problem. want me to bring anything?
> 
> _maybe some ginger ales. i'll uber eats us dinner. you like burritos?_
> 
> love them. see you in a few.

* * *

 

He spends most of the night at Bucky's simply because it's a much better alternative than going right to the apartment. By the time he leaves, it's nearly midnight and he's full from the Chipotle they'd had, proud of his 3 to 2 win streak in Fortnite. There was something a little off about his friend, most of that evening, as he checked and rechecked his phone and growled under his breath whenever he got a message. Loki had a feeling it had something to do with Darcy, but he wouldn't pry. If they wanted him to know, it'd probably be in the group chat.

 

He took his time walking home, the relative quiet of the neighborhood unusual on a summer night. It didn't usually quiet down here till at least 2 or 3 a.m. but only two other people passed him in the street and he didn't see many cars about. The weird foreboding he'd felt earlier returned, this time triple fold, and he hurried his steps the last two blocks to his apartment building.

 

He knew, no sooner did he get to his floor, that something was off. Wrong, even, though he didn't want to imagine what it could be. Perhaps Gast had somehow found out where he lived and had sent someone after him. He approached the door cautiously and twisted the handle slowly, careful not to make a noise. His entire being was on alert, his body tense and his eyes darting here and there to catch someone or something in the shadows.

 

The handle was busted and he swung the door wide. He thought perhaps he should call the cops first, have them take a look around, but something told him to check for himself first. Loki took a careful step in and nearly stumbled over a duffel bag and a large suitcase in the foyer. And he knew, before he even cleared the corner of the room, who was in his apartment.

 

She stood in the middle of his living room, eyes shot red with tears and a wild expression on her lovely face. She still looked the same, though her hair was a little different and she'd filled out a bit, no doubt from the birth of her two boys. But she was still beautiful, that otherworldly kind of beauty that had captured him as a 20 year old kid and drug him under, deeply, into her web.

 

"Sigyn…" he breathed, walking toward her slowly so as not to startle. Splotches of red flushed her pale cheeks and her hands trembled as she cried. "Sig, what are you...what are you doing here?" How did she even get in, he wondered. That door was hard for even a grown man to break in to. Or at least, that's what the landlord had said.

 

"You weren't home," she wailed, the soft hint of her accent coming through even as she stumbled forward and fell into his arms. "You were gone and I needed you and-"

 

She broke off with a sob and he sank to the floor, his ex wife in his arms, and tried hard not to cry along with her.

 


	8. Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've updated! I wanted to apologize for that; lots of stuff-including a computer crash-has happened, but I've been able to write at work and hopefully I'll have my own laptop once again. Thanks for hanging in here and reading, it means the world.
> 
> PS: There's a few mentions of drug use, abuse, and allusions to past traumas but they're not in detail at all.
> 
>  
> 
> I love comments and hearing from you! Feel free to let me know how you feel about the chapter.

“So uh…when are you gonna tell her?”

 

Loki sighs and rubs his temples, paperwork and photographs and his nearly dead laptop strewn across the bed.

 

“I honestly hadn’t planned to say anything, Darcy,” he mutters, because he really hadn’t. There was no use bringing Hilde into all this drama; she had enough going on with job hunting and her shifts at the diner. He didn’t think she needed anymore stress. And there had been the point of her somewhat off putting attitude over the last few days. She’d been withdrawn and really snappy over the phone, brushed him off for a lunch date the other day, and wasn’t answering anyone’s messages in the group chat. He hadn’t a clue what caused that, but he figured leaving her alone would be his best bet.

 

And, of course, it would give him time to sort out his Sigyn problem. He hated calling her a problem. Even at their worst, at _her_ worst, Sig had never been a problem.

 

“Okay, so you realize this is gonna backfire, huh?”

 

Darcy sounded as frustrated as he felt and he was curious as to why but he didn’t want to pry. He assumed she’d tell him when she was ready, but something caught in her voice and Loki felt a tug at his heart. For once, it would be nice to be the listening ear instead of the other way around. Never mind that he actually paid Darcy to listen to him once a week; she wasn’t on the clock right now and was still allowing him to ramble on about Sigyn.

 

“It’s a definite possibility,” he begins, cradling the phone between his cheek and shoulder, and attempting to reorganize his bed so he doesn’t lose something important. “I’m hoping, however, that Sig takes my advice and goes to talk to someone before Hilde even finds out.”

 

“Which is a terrible fuckin’ idea, Lokes. Terrible idea. Hey, just…look. If you think hiding something from your girlfriend-something involving your ex wife, of all things-is a good idea, you might be dumber than I thought.”

 

He jerked back at that, his paperwork stilled in his hands and he let out a slow, long breath. But then he heard Darcy’s hard sigh and let it slide. “Dude. I’m so sorry, that was…wow.”

 

“It’s fine, my friend,” he said gently. “You seem to have an awful lot on your mind. Spill. I’ve got three hours till bed and my eyes are crossed looking into this case so…”

 

Darcy sucks in air and whimpers a little and Loki knows this is wearing on her nerves something awful. He knows too, then, that it has something to do with Bucky and he thinks back to a few nights before during Fortnite when Bucky had been antsy and anxious over a text message.

 

“I wanna break up with Buck,” Darcy finally said after a long silence. Yep. That was it.

 

“Any particular reason why?” Loki asked, closing his poor laptop. The thing was nearly overheated and the low battery alert flashed ominously on the screen. He was too tired to really care about plugging it in right now, though, so he scooted it over to the edge of the bed and lay back with a groan.

 

“I…no? That’s like, the problem?”

 

It had to be a problem, then, because she was doing that thing where everything turned into a question. It was a Darcy tick to get anxious and annoyed and raised the lilt of her voice until she seemed to be asking about everything.

 

“You want to break up with him, but can’t figure out why. Sounds to me you’re just not that into him anymore.”

 

“Oh god, that sounds so…does that make me a fuckboy?” He almost snorted out a laugh but reduced it to a light chuckle, at least to lighten the mood some. “I mean, I realize that whatever we were doing wasn’t exactly supposed to be that serious, but he comes across as awfully attached and I just-“

 

“It’s not your style.”

 

“No, it’s not!” she exclaims, and he imagines her smacking her thigh in revelation. Darcy was a brilliant therapist and an incredibly astute and intuitive person, but she was awfully dense about her own situations at times. “You know how I am, Lokes. I mean, I hate to call it a smash and dash, but that’s generally how I do things. I may get a little attached at times-“

 

“Ian, yes.”

 

“Oh fuck, you had to bring up…Lokes, don’t.”

 

“I’m honestly going to just assume you’re not over Ian and never have been.”

 

She sniffs and for a moment, Loki is worried she’s crying. And then she sneezes and he remembers her allergies are going haywire. “Ugh, I wish this Zyrtec would kick in. It’s the only thing that doesn’t make me sleepy and actually works. But anyway.”

 

“Do continue.”

 

“Ian was…” She sighs and Loki prepares to hear her very unconvincing argument about how her ex fiancé and college sweetheart had been just a stepping stone in the pond that was her life, but instead she surprises him by agreeing. “He was everything. Smart and funny and silly and goofy. You know how much I love goofy.”

 

“I do,” he says with a soft smile.

 

“And look, when we broke up I told myself I’d be fine. You know, I’m an intelligent, interesting, gorgeous young woman. I can do better than Mr. Dungeons and Dragons. He always left the toilet seat up. That shit annoyed me.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

“But it’s been five years and I still…Loki, I’m still in love and I hate it cause he probably doesn’t even think about me anymore.”

 

Loki finally got the stack of paperwork organized enough to place it neatly in a pile by his bed and kicked his covers back, slipping his legs underneath. He had a feeling he might actually get to sleep early tonight. Hilde was being standoffish and Sigyn had apparently exhausted herself earlier and would probably not call till the morning.

 

“Have you looked to see what he’s been doing?”

 

Darcy groans. “He doesn’t have social media and he probably changed his phone number.”

 

“I doubt it,” Loki insists. “From what I remember of Ian, he didn’t seem the type to change much of anything unless forced to. I’m sure he’s still using an iphone 3.” That made her laugh a little. “So it’s a possibility that his number is still the same. Don’t you have it memorized?”

 

“Yeah…unfortunately,” she says dryly but he thought he could hear a smirk in her voice. “You’re saying I should call and catch up?”

 

“I’m saying you should perhaps allow Bucky to find someone else and stop stringing him along when your heart isn’t in it.”

 

“I don’t wanna hurt him,” she says softly, her voice so small and quiet that Loki felt like wrapping his friend into a hug. “He’s such a good guy, Lokes. He’s…he’s smart too. And he’s really perceptive, and he’s got a great sense of humor and he’s so kind, and the dick is so good.”

 

“Glad to hear it. But if he’s not what you truly want…”

 

“Then I gotta let him go,” she says and then she sighs again. “Yeah. You’re right. I just…I really don’t want to do this. I like having him around.”

 

Loki had a feeling that once the initial hurt wore off, Darcy might possibly still have him around but he didn’t mention that. She would find out herself. There were some things you couldn’t hand hold a person through and breaking up was one of them.

 

“Trust your gut,” he says, and a little voice in the back of his head tells him he should probably do the same. But of course, he ignores it and focuses instead on Darcy’s dilemma, pushing his own backward for a few more hours.

 

* * *

 

Of course, he finds out that Sunday, Darcy is right as usual.

 

The postponed dinner at Jarvis and Wanda’s has been rescheduled for brunch, so he picks Hilde up in an uber and they get to the Vision’s home around 10:30. She’s awfully quiet, and it’s a little unsettling. He tries making conversation, reaches his fingers out to hold hers, but she doesn’t quite react the way she normally does.

 

“Sweetheart.”

 

Hilde blinks, turning her head toward him in the car and she offers him her best attempt at a smile, but it seems hollow.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are you okay?” He knows she isn’t, but he can’t figure out what’s wrong and it’s eating at him. But he doesn’t want to push her either. The last thing he wants to be is clingy and nosy, so he refrains. He wants her to come to him when she’s ready to talk. Even still, he at least wants her to know he’s worried.

 

“I’m whatever.”

 

“Whatever isn’t okay,” he quips, trying to tease a bit of humor from her but she closes her eyes for a moment and pulls her hand away. That hurts. He bites back the urge to make her speak to him, and allows her to have her silence.

 

It chokes him, but he gives it to her anyway.

 

In his pocket, his phone vibrates and he knows it’s probably Sig texting him. She seemed in a better mood than she had been; earlier that morning, she’d let him know she would go to see someone first thing Monday. She’d only asked for his support on the matter, and he had told her he’d see what he could do. There was no harm in helping someone, was it? Even if that person was his ex wife and she’d admitted she had contemplated leaving her husband for him.

 

Loki didn’t know how to approach that little issue. He hadn’t even said a word to Darcy about it, mostly because he’d really just wanted to pretend it wasn’t actually a reality. He kept hoping Sigyn would change her mind when she didn’t get the reaction from him that she’d been expecting and fly back to England and he wouldn’t have worry about even saying anything about it to Hilde.

 

It didn’t look like that was going to happen though. He’d always had shit luck.

 

Wanda greeted the both of them with a warm hug, her blue green eyes shifting between the two of them curiously as she picked up on the tension between them. She’d always had a way of knowing things about people and he wondered if maybe Hilde had said something to Wanda about what was wrong. He thought to ask her later.

 

“Vis is making French toast and I’ve got fruit set up in the dining room. Mimosas, virgin of course, and a cheese tray. You guys get settled and we’ll bring everything out.”

 

“Thanks, chick,” Hilde says with a strained smile, and she slips past Wanda toward the dining room. Wanda shoots Loki a look, her brow raised but Loki can only shrug. He doesn’t know anymore than she does. He feels a little disappointed to know that Wanda wouldn’t have any insight.

 

“I’m assuming you’ve not asked,” she says in a low voice, but Loki shakes his head and he thinks he sees her roll her eyes. “Of course you haven’t. You’ve got to stop thinking you’re being a bother, Loki. She’s your girlfriend. You should be a little nosy, at least.”

 

Loki purses his lips and ignores the odd feeling of trepidation that settles heavily in his belly. “We haven’t been together long enough for me to pry in her business, Wanda-“

 

“And you won’t be together for much longer if you don’t suck it up and say something.”

 

“I asked if she was alright on the ride over!” he counters, but he knows that isn’t enough. It was simply a scratch on the surface of what he could be doing. And confiding in her about Sigyn was most definitely one of those things, somewhere between actually talking to her about Gast and how the case was wearing him down and telling her that he loved her. He wasn’t acting like he loved her, and that made him feel so ashamed.

 

Wanda crosses her arms and shoots him a glare that tells him he’s slacking in the boyfriend department. He wants to blame it on being single for so long, but he knows it’s just because he’s scared. What was he really scared of?

 

Running her off, for one thing. Pushing her away. Smothering her.

 

“You need to get your shit together, Odinson,” she says under her breath. Loki keeps his mouth shut because he really can’t disagree. It’s not like she’s wrong. Maybe, he thinks as he follows Wanda to the dining room, he could talk after brunch. Maybe they could sort through whatever was eating at the both of them that afternoon.

 

The brunch starts off well enough. Hilde and Jarvis talk color theory over virgin mimosas while Loki and Wanda discuss her plans for expanding the gallery. “I’m thinking that if we buy the building beside it and include sculpture, maybe even some interactive art installations, we could attract a broader crowd. I’ve gone over with Hilde a few times; she says she’s got a friend who does sculpture work that might be interested.”

 

"Gamora Quill. Yeah, I've seen some of her stuff. She's talented."

 

"So you think she'll be a good fit, then? You know I don't usually bother with avant garde stuff, but-"

 

"No, no. Gamora's good. She does unusual stuff but it's not that weird art school mumbo jumbo you'd see uptown."

 

"I told you she'd fit in," Hilde interjects, her smile a lot more genuine than it had been all day and Loki thinks that this had been a good idea. Whatever she's going through, they can work out because her smile is almost as bright as it always is and that's a good thing. He ignores niggling in the back of his skull that perhaps he's wrong about all that and takes a sip of his water. "Loki's got a good eye for that kind of stuff, surprisingly."

 

He laughs a little and glances down at his nearly finished food. "Why surprisingly? I like to think I'm an art connoisseur of sorts."

 

"You're alright for an amateur." She bites her bottom lip and Loki can't help but reach over and grasp her hand, brush his thumbs over her knuckles. This was more like the Hilde he knew. Everything was going to be just fine.

 

Until, of course, it wasn't.

 

He takes a bathroom break when they finish eating and he leaves the dining room to laughter and calls for a charades game. He can't help chuckling when Hilde comments about how white the morning had gotten. "You really can't get much whiter than charades and brunch," Jarvis had concurred in that posh, raspy voice of his and that had started them all to giggling like kids.

 

He's on a bit of a high when he takes a piss, washes his hands and face and checks his hair. He needs a trim, he notes, and maybe a deep condition. He's been spoiling himself at the salon ever since Shuri got him hooked on hair masks and regular hair cuts. He thinks maybe he'll start letting his natural curls come through instead of the usual flat ironing he does. He hadn't had curly hair in years and it'd be a nice change of pace.

 

Drying his hands, he flushes the toilet one more time just to be sure and opens the door with one hand as he turns off the light with the other. He's halfway down the hall when he realizes it's quieter than it had been, no chatter or laughter, and it worries him enough that he hangs back and watches. And then his heart stops when he sees Hilde holding his phone and glaring down at it blankly.

 

His initial thought is to slip past them and out the door, run down the street and say to hell with all of it. But running from his problems were why he was probably in hot water right now. And when his footsteps sound into the dining room and Jarvis and Wanda glance up at him, he knows he was pretty close to boiling water.

 

Hilde's head is still down, her eye scanning the screen of his phone. He can't help but imagine what she thinks of the disjointed texts-ones he'd deleted because they hadn't made much sense, others left simply because he'd been too lazy to bother with them. No one ever looked at his phone. It hadn't made any difference if his ex wife sent him paragraphs of what was going on in her head at two in the morning. It hadn't mattered at all, because Hilde hadn't known and she wasn't supposed to know, ever, never ever and now-

 

"Look. If you were gonna go through all the trouble of cheating, you could have at least cleared your shit out."

 

She waves the phone around like it's nothing, her head snapping up and there's so much anger in her eyes, so much tension in her body that it rolls off her waves. He feels sick. But he can't let her think he's cheating. He's not.

 

A pathetic excuse for a boyfriend, maybe but he wasn't unfaithful. Hell, he'd been coked out on drugs and barely surviving but he'd never even cheated on Sig. Jesus. The thought makes him want to hurl.

 

"I didn't clear anything out because I'm not cheating," he says calmly, or, as calmly as he can manage when his chest is exploding in a firestorm of panic and fear. She doesn't really look convinced. He clears his throat and keeps his eyes on her, refusing to look at anyone else lest she think he's lying. He's not. He's lied so much in his life but he's not lying now.

 

"Okay, so...you've got some bitch in your messages professing her undying fidelity-"

 

"Sigyn is...not well."

 

"Sigyn?" She nearly hisses the name, and she glances at the phone once more before tossing it in her hand, up and down, over and over, for one very terse moment. And then she hurls it at him like a projectile, just barely missing him. "You're cheating on me with your fuckin' druggy ex wife?"

 

He blinks. He doesn't want to explode over this and lose his temper, but she has _no idea_ and _no right_ and how dare she talk about Sig like that? "Don't you dare." He can't help how he growls it out. It's struck a nerve in him and he can't imagine she'd allow him to talk of Savannah this way. "You don't even...it's not what you think it is, if you'll sit down and let me expl-"

 

"Talk." She plops back down in the dining room chair and glares at him so hard he thinks he can feel her eyes skinning him alive. "Try to talk your way out of this one."

 

He purses his lips for a moment and then, and only then, does he allow himself to glance to Wanda, who stands with a half finished mimosa in one hand and a napkin in the other, wide eyed and still as a statue. Jarvis stares off somewhere in the distance and sips his tea gingerly, as if nothing at all is really happening around him. He envies him this.

 

"Read the rest of them, if you'd like," he tells her, trying so hard to keep bitterness out his voice. "You'll see I didn't respond to anything she said because she didn't mean them. She apologized later. I'm taking her to the clinic tomorrow morning and-"

 

"Her husband can't do that? Isn't she married?" Hilde scoffs and crosses her arms across her chest, and Loki can see she's almost itching to hit something. Him. She wants to hit him.

 

He almost wants to let her.

 

"Her husband only knows she's out of the country visiting a friend. He...doesn't quite know the extent of how..." He takes in a deep breath and sighs. "Sigyn hasn't ever dealt with any of the trauma she went through as a young woman and now it's come back to bite her hard in the ass. And she didn't know what to do or who to turn to, not even her husband because she's convinced he won't love her anymore if she tells him."

 

"I can't imagine she's right," Jarvis says softly, trying, Loki can tell, to calm everyone's nerves, and somehow, it seems to work. Hilde's shoulders aren't quite as rigid.

 

"She's not," Loki says, holding on to that little thread and running with it. "He loves her unconditionally, from what she's told me, from what I've known of the two of them over the years. He knows her past but she...I suppose she just needed a break and an old friend to cry to and I was here." He pauses for a moment and looks to Hilde again but she won't meet his eyes, the pulse in her throat jumping as she struggles not to cry.

 

Fuck. He's made her cry.

 

"She didn't know about you, Hilde, I promise. She even said...she said she probably wouldn't have come if she did, she thought-"

 

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

 

It's croaked out accusatorily, and he feels so guilty now, so awful, because he'd spent so long trying to hide this all and what for?

 

"I didn't...you've already got so much going on and I-"

 

"You won't let me help you with the case," she continues, sniffling as she does, her eyes welling up and she wipes hastily at her eyes. "You won't talk to me about how stressed out you are and didn't tell me about this...you don't trust me. You don't trust me enough to let me in and I just..." She shakes her head and blows out a trembling breath, then gets up from the table in a rush, grabbing her phone and her bag, forgetting all about charades and the Visions still standing still in the dining room.

 

No one says a word, until Wanda reaches over and pats Loki's hand, her eyes sad. "Go see about her. You're going to lose her if you don't."

 

He has a sinking feeling he's going to anyway.

 

He finds her on the corner, her phone still in hand and tears tracked down her cheeks. She stares out resolutely at the street and he can see the uber icon in bright focus on her screen.

 

“I thought…”

 

She trails off and shakes her head, blinking back tears and staring at the overcast sky.

 

“I thought you trusted me. I thought I meant enough that you could confide in me. I don't even know if I can trust you, now.”

 

He wants to tell her that she can, but he can’t even be sure if he can trust himself. Why is he hiding from her? He knows now that Wanda had been right, so had Darcy. Maybe if he’d have just said something-

 

"What else are you hiding?"

 

"Nothing. Nothing, I swear, that was it. I didn't...Hilde-"

 

"You know how shitty that makes me feel? That you don't want to fuckin' talk to me? That you can spill your guts to a woman you're not married to any more but not me? Fuck, Loki." She wipes her eyes again, this time harsher and furiously, and she bites her lip so she doesn't cry anymore than she is.

 

“I’m sorry.” He is, so very much. His whole body aches and he wants nothing more than to have done this differently, to have told her in the first place about it all. He wishes he hadn't pushed her away when she wanted to help. Pride and fear had made him give her the cold shoulder and now this was the price for it.

 

She meets his eyes and there’s an almost sad sort of resolution to them that he hates. She’s giving him up and for a woman he doesn’t want. Not like that, he doesn’t. He’s just got to help her right now, he’s got to win this case and keep Hilde out of it so she doesn't get hurt.

 

No…no, that was what had fucked all this to begin with. But it’s probably too late, because she shrugs, her face closed off and her mouth tight and she starts down the street. He figures her uber is close. She'll get in the car and leave and he's scared he'll never see her again. He tries one more time.

 

“Hilde. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kept it all from you. I know that, now. I'm so sorry.”

 

She waves her hand and keeps going, never once glancing back. He swallows, hard, his voice cracking when he calls her again. “Hilde! Please!”

 

“Good luck with the case and the ex, Loki,” she says then, her voice a sharp steel and he feels his stomach drop with the knowledge that he’d probably just ruined the best thing that ever happened to him.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

* * *

 

 

His apartment is too quiet when he gets in, so he takes his paperwork and heads to the park because he doesn’t want to be surrounded by nothing and no one, least of all right now. There’s no more texts from Sigyn; he assumes she’s fallen asleep again, and nothing from Hilde and he’s fairly certain there won’t be anymore.

 

It hurts. It’s a strange sort of pain, the kind that aches deep and unrelenting but it hasn’t consumed him just yet. He isn’t sure why because he knows that without her, without what they had, he should be falling apart. It’s possible he’s too busy trying to put the right person in prison and save the wrong one to really grasp that he’s single again, that his girlfriend had broken up with him because he couldn’t let her in enough to admit to something as simple as helping a friend.

 

Of course it wasn't just any friend, and that was the issue, wasn’t it?

 

He fights with the urge, too, to blame Hilde for overreacting. He hadn’t a clue what kinds of things happened in her past relationships to warrant that kind of reaction. And really, wouldn’t he be a little angry if an ex popped back up in her life and wanted her help and she refused to tell him about it? So no, he couldn’t be angry with her. He glances at his phone once more, out of habit more than anything, sees nothing yet again and he wonders how long it’ll be before he’s kicked out the group chats and excluded from the gym on Saturdays. It’s a bitter train of thought but it fuels him to keep digging through his research and papers and all the photos he’d collected.

 

And it’s not until the light starts waning, his ass numb for sitting so long, the rustle of a breeze stirring his hair out his eyes, does he realize what day it is.

 

August 3rd.

 

It was August 3rd and Hilde had lost Savannah that day and he was so fucking stupid. Of course she’d been standoffish and withdrawn, of course she’d been so damned hedgy. She was mourning the death of her first love while he played savior to his. It wasn’t fair; he’d hurt Sigyn almost beyond belief but there she was, still there and breathing and able to forgive him. And Hilde had only argued with Savannah the night before and within hours, she was gone.

 

He was so distracted in his anger at himself it was a miracle he could make it back home.

 

His first reaction, upon slinging his work across the table and couch, was to grab a knife and get to work on his arms and thighs the way he had way back in high school, when the whispers were too much but nobody noticed how close (too close) he was to his drama teacher. His second was to call Thor, until he remembered his brother was busy with other far more important things, like a case of his own and a wife on bedrest. His third was simply to take as many Xanax as he could manage to swallow at once and fall asleep, possibly for the next few days until he could figure out how to live with himself and function like a normal human being.

 

But he would never be a normal anything. He knew that now, even as he stripped himself of his clothes and crawled into his cool sheets. It was like facing a monster in his closet; he was and always would be an addict, would always carry the pain of abuse, would always have regrets.

 

 

He didn’t have to dwell in them, though. And he didn’t have to run.

 

So he ignored all three of his first reactions, after a good cry that left his chest hollow and his body shivering, and he poured himself a tall glass of milk, warming it in the microwave as he dug out his old record player and the box of pictures and vinyl records he hadn’t touched since before rehab.

 

Once, when the anger and helplessness inside him had threatened to swallow him alive, he’d sit and listen to music for hours and hours on end, from the instant he’d gotten home from school until late at night, eyes drooping with exhaustion but his heart a little bit freer. He could move on a bit if he could get lost for a while; he could deal with another day, another threat, if he had his records. The microwaved dinged and he took out his glass of milk and sat on the couch, bundled in comforters and swathed in darkness.

 

 _Floodland_ , Sisters of Mercy. _Unknown Pleasures_ , Joy Division. _Disintegration_ , The Cure.

 

He thumbed through the rows of dusty records and took a trip back in time with each one, almost acutely aware of where he was whenever he’d first heard each one and the money he’d saved to buy them. He still remembers the little record store he’d take the train to after class or even during, of how he’d slunk in the corners with wide eyes and pale skin and devoured the rows of records, simply content to just read the back covers and breath in the dust of them. And he remembers the almost knowing, but droll, smirk the clerk had given him when he finally worked up the courage to buy his first one.

 

That had been a Bauhaus record, by the way.

 

Loki plugs in the turntable and the speakers and settles on _Disintegration_ for his first play. The initial notes of _Plainsong_ ring out loud and clear through the apartment and it takes his breath away, much the way it had years ago as a lonely, scared 16 year old in the dark of his bedroom. Hands clench his warm glass of milk as he closes his eyes and for just a second, he travels back in time and he is that boy again, headphones plugged in and pressed to his ears as he leaned against his bed in socks and his school uniform.

 

Sometime later he’d started dressing in all black. No matter how much his mother had worried or his brother had teased, he’d felt so right and then it was trips to the drugstore after the record store, eyeliner shoved in the bottom of his backpack and rimmed around his blue green eyes haphazardly.

 

It didn’t matter about the laughter then, or the bruises he’d gotten in gym, or the too lingering touches because he had music and he had his imagination and he’d filled notebook after notebook with stories and binder after binder with photographs he’d taken (weird little things in retrospect, but they were his). He opens his eyes and he’s in Brooklyn again, 35 years old and just as vulnerable as he’d been twenty years before.

 

But he knew now that things got better if he just waited them out. All he had to do was hold on, and he could manage. The trick was to keep breathing.

 

His fingers fumble over something wide and hard and he tugs it out from under more records and finds his old photo album. Loki draws in a breath and flips it open with trembling hands, catching just a glimpse of a familiar face in the dark of the living room. He leans over and turns on the lamp light and then more memories come flooding back to him. There’s pictures of the whole gang; Sif and Thor and he, Fandral and Hogun and, Heimdall on vacation from university, his mother and Thor during a football game. He flipped through more, the pictures capturing various points in his life that had been, in retrospect, not nearly as bad as he had imagined. There was high school graduation, and then the party after where he'd gotten drunk and puked all over Agatha Dearling's new suede platform shoes. Oddly enough, that had scored him a few popularity points. He laughs a little thinking of it now. He wondered how Agatha was doing.

 

His pictures kept on until he found ones that made him suck in a sharp breath and the laugh that came out his chest was both broken and beautiful. Him, at twenty, skinny and tall in all black and with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. Him, after classes with his new buddies from the university-scowling Proxima, Ebony, and Corvus. And then, a picture taken weeks after that one with a pretty slim brunette in his lap and a drink in hand. It was a candid; he still had no idea who'd taken the photo, only that the club owner had given it to him some time after. And he almost smiles at the two naïve, wild, headstrong kids on that couch.

 

He wishes he could tell them all the pain they'd cause each other later. He wishes he could save them.

 

There's more pictures of Sigyn then, hair bone straight and to her waist, barely there halters and tiny little mini skirts. She looked like a dream in black velvet and burgundy satin, in lace high neck cropped blouses and chunky black boots. His queen of the night, he'd called her, kissing her breathless and sneaking his hand up her slim thigh in the middle of a song in the dark of the club. It had been a second home, and she had been his favorite part.

 

On the next page was their wedding photo. She'd married him a week after her 18th birthday, dressed head to toe in black velvet, the perfect sort of dress for a Halloween wedding. The two of them had looked so young, and though he could feel that odd crushing feeling of sadness and nostalgia threatening to drown him, there was a little bit of happiness too. He didn't stop the tears from falling, only let himself cry and remember, his fingers grazing across the photos and the memories and the good things before it all had gone to hell. He laughed at Thor in the background, completely out of place with his goth friends but happy nonetheless; Frigga and Odin standing proudly beside their son and new daughter in law, though the look on Odin's face spoke volumes about his real feelings on the matter. And their wedding cake, a red velvet bleeding pentagram contraption he'd gotten at a bakery for half price. It was all so ridiculous now that he was looking at it but it had been his. And he had loved it, every minute, had loved her so much it had burned inside him like an ember.

 

He still loved her. He knew he always would. But he couldn't let his love for her completely overrun everything he wanted in his life from here on out.

 

With a tired sigh, he closed the album and leaned against the couch, his fingers digging into the carpet when _Lovesong_ started to play. There were no tears left to cry, at least not right now. Instead, he curled up on the floor wrapped in his comforter and let Robert Smith sing him to sleep.

* * *

 

He woke with a fuzzy mouth and his phone ringing in his ear and for a second he was worried that it was Sigyn, freaking out again about something or hopeful it was Hilde, calling to talk. It was neither. Bucky's Facebook photo stared at him as the phone rang and rang and he fumbled in picking it up.

 

"Odinson."

 

"Yeah, I uh..." There was a sniffle on the other end and Loki sighed in sympathy. So Darcy had apparently done the deed. Poor guy.

 

"Want me to bring something to eat?"

 

Bucky gave a watery laugh and his breath was slow, deliberate. "Yeah. Grab something from the Chinese place, if that's okay."

 

"On my way."

 

He hung up and got dressed, not bothering to straighten his records or his floor, opting instead to let them sit where they lay. He had a feeling he was going to need them again soon. He put his clothes from earlier that day on and was out the door and down the street to Bucky's within minutes. After picking up some take out and grabbing a six pack of ginger ale from the corner store, he made his way up the three stories to Bucky's flat, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he knocked.

 

"I guess she told you, huh." Bucky's eyes were rimmed red and his face splotchy, but he didn't look nearly as bad as he'd sounded on the phone so Loki figured that was a good thing. And then his face shifted, his brow raising. "Jesus, Lokes...you okay, man?"

 

Loki shook his head, smiled even though he wanted so badly to cry once more, and slipped past Bucky into the quiet apartment. He took a seat at the bar and peeled a ginger ale from the pack. "Eat. I'm hungry and my head aches and I need a BC powder, probably," he said, sliding the plate of yakisoba over toward his friend. "I'll tell you all about how I fucked up with Hilde and you can tell me all about Darcy dumping you."

 

Bucky stood a little dumbfounded at the counter beside the fridge, but shrugged and nodded, pulled up a stool, and joined Loki in a quiet, depressing dinner.

 

"She say she had any particular reason?" Bucky asks, later, after he'd told him all about the brunch and the fall out after. That had been an exercise in not breaking down. "I mean, I know I'm a little clingy, but shit...It thought she liked that.

 

Loki shrugs. "She only said she didn't have a real reason except that she wasn't feeling it."

 

"Which is a valid reason, by the way, I just..."

 

"Oh no, I get it. I do."

 

He did. It was natural to wonder, especially when it seemed everything was going fine. But it wasn't his place to tell Bucky about Darcy's hang-ups or the torch she still carried for Ian so he didn't. Instead, he let Bucky talk through his feelings, about how tempted he was at times to relapse, and how even though he'd come so far, he still felt like he had a long ways to go.

 

“Sam’s been trying to get me to see a therapist for years. I figured AA and video games would work, but…yeah. It’s slipping. You can see the cracks, man. I guess that’s why Darcy decided she needed to cut me loose. But she didn’t say.”

 

“I don’t think that had anything to do with it. You seem to have a firm handle on your traumas because I’ve never really noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

 

“And that’s not healthy, right?” Bucky frowns in thought and stares at the unfinished wall, his hands passing his can of ginger ale back and forth unconsciously. “I’m not saying I should be a blubbering, fucked up mess, but hell…I don’t feel a lot most of the time. I just…I am. I exist. I put on a happy face for everyone and throw parties every other week so I don’t feel so empty and alone.”

 

Loki reaches out and grasps his shoulder comfortingly, reminded a time when he too felt the same. He’d been numb to the world after Sigyn left, after getting out of rehab and trying to pick up the pieces. It was almost as if he didn’t have the time to deal with any other emotion except spite, and so he had ignored his emotions for long enough that one night, they’d all come tumbling down. His breakdown had terrified him and he’d called Thor, who had led him to Darcy. And that had been the beginning to his healing, though the process was still ongoing and probably always would be.

 

He wonders how Hilde is doing and has to push the urge to call her deep down and far away. She’d probably call him if she wanted him; he wouldn’t give her a reason to think he was disrespecting any of her boundaries. But he missed her, more than he could truly express. And he wished he could just fix things right now.

 

Lost in his own thoughts, he almost jumps when Bucky moves to stand, taking Loki’s empty can with him into the kitchen silently. It’s oddly quiet in the loft, and for the first time, Loki doesn’t feel so anxious when he soaks it in. Sometimes it’s nice to have just his thoughts, especially when he knows he’s not alone. Bucky’s just a room away, and he could always open the gym group chat and call up one of the guys. His whole life doesn’t have to revolve around one person, he knows, not anymore.

 

He hopes he’ll be better after this break. He hopes that’s all this is, a break. He’s confronted with the thought that maybe this is a permanent thing and whatever good he had going is all gone to shit because of a stupid mistake. But thinking that way wouldn’t do him any good, so he ignores the negative feelings bubbling up inside him and listens to the sound of his heart beating, the air that rushes in and out his lungs, the faucet in the kitchen and the low hum of the A/C. Before he knows it, he’s slipping down in the couch, drowsy and comfortable.

 

“You know,” Bucky says quietly when he comes back, “I never did tell you about Stevie.”

 

Loki opens his eyes and moves to sit up, but Bucky waves his hand and tosses him a pillow and a blanket. “Might as well spend the night, buddy. It’s late out and you look exhausted.”

 

“Work is killing me.” Work could quite possibly actually kill him, but he was hesitant to actually say anything else about that. “Stevie, you said? Your best friend from high school?”

 

Bucky nods, a hint of a smile coming to his lips as he plops down on the couch. “The same one. Though honestly, me and Stevie’s been besties since…shit, like, fifth grade? A long time. Dude was my moral compass for a long time and I was his personal body guard.” He chuckles at that, no doubt memories of defending his friend from bullies coming to mind. “You see, Stevie was always sick as a kid, and Aunt Sarah was barely making ends meet, so he didn’t always have the meds he needed. I mean, Mama struggled with us four too…but we did what we could. And when Aunt Sarah died…”

 

Bucky shook his head and let out a long sigh. “He was always a stubborn ass kid. He was 15 years old and living on his own in that shitty apartment cause he had a hardship license and figured he could take care of himself. I mean, he worked after school at this little grocery store up the street and then went home and did homework till he passed out and somehow, he made it out of high school with a 4.0 GPA and honors.”

 

Loki cracks a grin at the tenacity of young Steve Rogers. “Sounds like the kind of kid I would have hated in school.”

 

Bucky laughs. “Hell, everyone kinda did. He was such a goody two shoes, you know? Never got into trouble, always stood up for folks, nice to the teachers. But Stevie had a rebellious streak, too. He was 115 pounds soaking wet and wanted to join the Army cause I was, cause 9/11 happened and he needed to go do something. They kept rejecting him. And when I shipped out, well…I figured he’d give it up and go to college and do something better than follow me into the military. I mean, Stevie had options, he coulda gotten scholarships, all that. I barely graduated with a C; I didn’t expect to do much of anything else with my life except move up in rank and make some money to send to my mama. And my sister was pregnant and in high school and I didn’t want her to drop out, so…”

 

Bucky shrugs, as if the past is just what happened and hadn’t shaped him into what he was. There was a sadness in his eyes, a regret for the things he probably had to do and the people he’d no doubt hurt or killed. Loki knew regret, had practically wallowed in it all his life, but he was so tired of living that way. And he didn’t want Bucky to do so either.

 

“Anyway, you know about the POW camp. You know about the months I spent being tortured and shit.”

 

“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if-“

 

“Oh, hell, I’m not. I’m…we’re not even gonna…” Bucky coughed and let out a shuddering breath. “See? I can’t even talk about that shit without wanting to panic. I didn’t think about it for years and years and I know I need to now, but I can’t.”

 

“That’s what the therapy is for,” Loki says with a soft smile, and Bucky manages to return it, though his mouth quivers and there seems to be unshed tears in his eyes.

 

“Yeah, yeah I know. I’ma get to that. I promise. But anyway…torture, POW, capture, all that shit-Okay, so guess who comes with the squad that rescues us? Fuckin’ Stevie. It’s been like, two years at this point since I’ve seen him and he’s not that tiny little kid I used to have to defend in school. Nah, he’s bowed up, probably 200 or pushing it, just looking like an all around superhero. And he comes to save me. He picks me up out of that slummy ass camp and he takes me home. And he’s there every step of the way while I recover.”

 

“And you fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

 

“You’re one perceptive son of a bitch, Lokes.” Bucky’s grin is a little pained, but it’s genuine, the kind of smile someone gives while talking about someone they’d loved and lost and regretted losing. Loki knows that smile so well, it’s like looking in a mirror.

 

“Yeah uh…I think I’ve always had something for him in me, but it kinda got worse after. I would have probably went to hell for that man after that. When I volunteered to go undercover and went missing, he never quit looking for me. He never gave up that I was somewhere out there, and I was. Amnesiac and fucked up beyond belief and missing my damn arm. And he found me again. This time though…I was so bad off that any little thing could trigger me. Slamming a door, snapping your fingers, candles. They put me in a hospital then and I got a little help for it, enough to get by, but nothing too deep. And I depended on Stevie so much.”

 

“Did the two of you ever…”

 

Bucky shrugged. “Sort of? Of course, it didn’t really get anywhere. We messed around a few times, and he told me I was one of the most important people in the world to him, but…we kinda drifted apart after a while. Wasn’t his fault, not at all. He had a new job and met this chick named Sharon and you know, I liked her, so I fell back and left it alone. But the drinking got too bad and he pushed me into AA. I left DC when I finished the program and moved back home and stayed with Mama for a while. Went and got my certification, moved into the loft. Life actually kind of started getting better, you know? A little at a time.”

 

Loki isn’t sure what to say to this, except that he’s proud of how far Bucky has come and how willing he is to go further. He almost envies his strength, though he knows it’s something he’s capable of as well. He could be dead somewhere, or in prison still, or strung out behind an alley instead of fighting to keep living one day at a time.

 

“Anyway,” Bucky continues, “I said all of that to say that I know where you’re comin’ from and I understand why you work the way you do because I do the same thing. I hold a lot of shit inside, I don’t go around tellin’ everyone how I feel about stuff because why should I burden them with all of that? Why do they need my issues on top of their own? And I know you think keeping everything from Hilde is protecting her, but it ain’t. She cares about you, dude. A lot. I’ve known her for years now and she’s never really been serious with any of her partners. I think she’s scared of getting too close after what happened with Van.”

 

“She told me so. She said…I mean, I understand that. I do.”

 

“Then just give her time. She’s got shit she’s gotta work out without you, and you do too. But the both of you need to stop clamming up and start talking more, okay? When she calls you and the two of you get back together, do that. Start talking.”

 

Loki offers Bucky a half grin and settles back against the cushions of the couch. He feels at least marginally better, much more than he had a few hours ago. And he knew Bucky was right; he had the case to work on and his past with Sig and a myriad of trust issues and control issues and he couldn’t be the best guy for Hilde if he was still holding on to all that pain the way he had for so long. It was a familiar pain, one he was almost scared of letting go. But he needed to. He had to, not just for a future with Hilde, but for his own happiness.

 

He could truly be happy again one day, he knew now. He just had to take it one day at a time to get there.

 

Bucky leaves him in the living room with a goodnight hug and a promise to make a Colorado omelette in the morning, so Loki shucks off his pants and strips to boxers and his undershirt before curling up on the couch and settling down. It’s an uneasy rest at first, his head still spinning with everything that had happened that day, but eventually he drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Sigyn does keep her promise to go to the hospital that next day, and true to his word, Loki goes with her to check in. She looks so haggard, eyes drooping with lack of sleep and her skin sallow and dull, but there’s the tiniest bit of hope there, too. She’d called her husband that morning and tearfully let him know what was going on, though Loki hadn’t heard but one side of the conversation. Yet, even from that brief interaction, he could tell that the man who’d married his ex wife was a good one. Sigyn had even somehow eked out a smile by the time she said goodbye. And then she’d handed Loki her cell phone and put on the bravest face she could as the uber arrived to take them to the hospital.

 

“The first step is the hardest,” she says with a soft sigh, staring out the window of her room where she’ll stay for a few weeks.

 

“That’s what I’ve always heard,” Loki says, letting Sigyn grasp his hand for comfort. “I mean, sometimes it’s the first hundred steps, the first thousand. Hell, occasionally every step we take is hard. But it’s a lot better than sitting back and letting the anger and the sadness and the emptiness consume you.”

 

She nods, as if she’s somehow known this all along but only needed a push in the right direction. And, as she meets with the nurses and doctors who will be taking care of her, as she turns to him with a tremulous smile and he walks away, he thinks she probably had.

 

He goes home to his record player, puts on some Sisters of Mercy, and starts a pot of coffee. He eats pasta for lunch and gets to work because there’s nothing else for him to do. He can’t fix Sigyn and he can’t push Hilde and he can’t be everything for everyone at all times. He can’t change his past, but he can try for a better future, for the girl who he’s defending and for any other child he’ll have to help later. It gives him a renewed sense of purpose, and he pushes through any fears he has to dig up every little tiny shred of evidence on Gast he possibly can.

 

And just when it seems to be slipping away from him, he finally gets the break he's looking for.

 

Souxsie and the Banshees are blaring in the background and there's photographs scattered across the floor when he sees the picture that'll take the case from nearly lost to good as won. His hands fumble for the phone and he gets the number wrong three times before he manages to call the office. Allison picks up with her usual chipper greeting, stuttering out an anxious hello when she realizes it's him.

 

"Call Detective Ross, Ally. We've got him."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on tumblr, of course! lilithenatum. Come say hi!


	9. Pomegranate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely adore comments and kudos, thank you!

He doesn’t try to avoid everyone, but somehow, he manages to, and oddly enough the isolation helps.

 

The only people he speaks to outside of Darcy and Thor (and occasionally Bucky) was Shuri and Gamora. He gets a notification from Shuri’s Instagram of the girls at their apartment, all of them dressed like they were out to a big party, braiding each other’s hair.

 

“AfroPunk 2018, here we come!” her caption reads. He takes just a second to soak in the photo, of little Groot perched in his mom’s lap with handful of bright beads. Shuri sits to the left of her, a grin on her face and her arm stretched out to take the picture. And then Hilde in the back, knees on either side of Gamora’s shoulders as she finished the braids she was working on, a slight smile on her face.

 

It didn’t reach her eyes. Loki memorized every detail of her face and then closed the app, his thumb hovering over the icon before he blew out a soft breath and deleted it.

 

He deleted his messenger, too. And deactivated his Facebook, put all the pictures he’d taken into a separate, locked folder on his phone. He wasn’t sure how much that would help. But it was something, and that was better than the aching that followed whenever he unlocked the screen and saw Hilde’s face.

 

And he wonders if maybe AfroPunk would have been fun, but he doesn’t dwell on it for too long.

 

Instead, he throws himself into the case head first now that he’s got this lead. It’s a thread that leads to a rope that unravels like a ball of yarn until the cops and the DA and every law enforcement office within the area plus the CIA and the FBI are breathing down Gast’s neck. He’s working some sort of tightly wound sex trafficking underground organization, the likes of which no one has ever really seen in this part of the world. Loki presents the evidence that gets the janitor off for rape and turns over what he’s found to the right people who will do what it takes to bring the actual culprits down.

 

The office thinks he’s a hero. He doesn’t, not really, but he doesn’t share that sentiment with anyone else. If they want to think he’s a much better person that he probably is, he’ll take it. He just won’t let it go to his head. So they celebrate and he takes the hugs and tearful thanks and pins his thank you cards in his office right next to his pictures of his brother and sister in law at their wedding, to photo of himself when he’d finally passed the bar, Thor beside him.

 

Loki doesn’t feel as though he should be celebrating anything, so in private, he doesn’t. He’d simply done his job and made sure the wrong person wasn’t going to jail while the culprit and the entire trafficking ring was brought to justice. He wouldn’t be working that trial; too much conflict of interest. But he’d definitely sit in the courtroom and watch. En Dwi Gast would finally, he hoped, be going to prison.

 

It was a small relief after years of self-loathing and fear. But it was something.

 

He took a few days off from work to simply hole up in his apartment and listen to his old records and breathe. It was nice. No one bothered him except the occasional text from Thor, and one phone call from Allison telling him she hoped he was doing well. He let that one go to voicemail but listened to the message over and over until it truly sank in that he’d won the impossible. And then he let himself cry, for the lost boy he’d been and the anger he was finally letting go of, for the regrets he was sure his mother had held and the ones he too had to live with. And for the first time since he’d left prison, he went to visit his parents’ graves.

 

Their shared mausoleum sat on a large hill in the quiet, well-kept cemetery. Their names stood out like a beacon, etched in dark stone, and Loki traced the letters of Frigga’s first, holding his breath as each finger dipped into the grooves of the lettering there. He gave himself a moment to just be, once again in the same space of the woman who’d taken an orphaned child into her heart and loved him like her own.

 

“I’m sorry, Mama,” he whispered, and for a moment, where his heart thudded loudly in the stillness, he swore he felt her hand on his brow.

 

Odin’s name was carved next to his beloved wife and Loki stared at the intricate O, the sharp turn of the n at the very end, before sliding a shaking hand over to trace that name too. It was as if he’d been struck by something when he did, and it was there, while coming to terms with the fact that he’d never gotten the chance to really and truly work anything out with the man who’d raised him, did he cry. It was necessary, he knew, though the sobs that tore from his chest ached and wracked him like a storm. But he was better for it.

 

By the time the light had drained from the mausoleum and his knees ached from kneeling, his head was clearer and freer than it’d probably ever been. He was healing finally, long scabbed over scars being ripped away to knit together into something better, something new. There would always be scars, but they would hold better this way. There was no glue now-no sort of, kind of, type of peace but a true one, a suture, an absolute. He could live with this now; he could face his tomorrows and look at his past and he would be just fine.

 

He puts on music, something a little less dreary, when he gets home and strips out his dirty jeans. There’re grass stains on the knees where he’d kneeled for hours and prayed and ranted and cried and talked. He douses them in prewash and puts on a load that’s been waiting for almost a month, warms up leftover lasagna Allison had cooked a week before, and settles into his spot on the floor by his couch.

 

It’s almost three AM when he falls asleep. “Enjoy the Silence” plays softly in his dreams.

* * *

Sigyn leaves the clinic on a cool September morning with bright eyes and a bare face, but there’s a fire to her that makes Loki tentatively happy. She’s contemplative when he brings her back to the apartment, flopping down on the couch and staring out his window as he clears out the guest room. She hadn’t said anything yet about calling home or leaving the city so he assumed she’d want to stay with him a little bit longer. And he had no issue with that at all. He was, though, nervous about whatever there was between them.

 

They were exes, yes, but there was a history there that ran deeper than just a failed marriage. Once upon a time, they’d been each other’s best friend, too. And the young man that still haunted Loki, the one who’d broken the heart of the woman in front of him to save her, wanted nothing more for them to be friends again. There would never be another Loki and Sigyn Odinson, no. But there could be a Loki Odinson and there could be a Sigyn Grant, their own entities and persons who had somehow come out on the other end of heartbreak and devastation to be stronger and wiser. He wanted her in his life some sort of way; he would be a fool to pretend he didn’t.

 

“Tea?”

 

He watches as she turns on the couch and blinks in the sunlight that streams through his window, and she smiles, a soft, timid thing that makes him smile back. She was still fragile, he could tell, but he had a feeling she would only get sharper and harder and better the more she kept breathing.

 

_Just keep breathing._

 

“If you don’t mind. Do you still buy pu’erh?”

 

“Always. I’ve got the chocolate kind, too.”

 

The smile turns into a bit of a grin and she nods her head once more before sighing, leaning back in the couch and tilting her head back. She’s quiet for the entire time he takes to fix them tea, and even when he brings it to her, but he doesn’t mind. If she wants to talk about her visit to the clinic, he figures she will.

 

And then he thinks of how much trouble he’s gotten into by not simply asking, by not wanting to bother. He sighs and pushes down the urge to let it go. He’s done letting things go where the people he cares about are concerned.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

There’s a beat where she seems to not have heard him but then she turns her head to him and watches him for a long while. He watches back, patient and open though he’s somewhat anxious of what she’s going to say. Or maybe she won’t say anything. But he at least has to ask.

 

“Wondering,” she finally says, and he raises a brow. That wasn’t what he’d expected, but he really hadn’t any idea what he’d expected.

 

“What about?”

 

“How did we ever get here?” she asks, eyes searching his as if he has the answer. He doesn’t know if he truly does. But he knows he’s got a share of the blame of where they’ve ended up, the both of them. And there it was. It was finally out there now, a question both of them had probably asked a million times over, one they’d chased the answer to without any sort of solace.

 

“I hurt you,” he says, the apology in his voice no matter what he does. He's done more than hurt her, he knows. He'd ruined her, he'd destroyed her innocence.

 

But Sigyn scoffs, shakes her dark head and gives a short bark of sarcastic laughter.

 

“You did. You let me down, as well.” She shrugs, adjusts her wrist watch and stares out toward the crowd of people walking down the street. It's the middle of a work week and everyone is going about like life is normal, as though they don't have their own problems to face and deal with. But Loki knows there are people out there who have dealt with much more than what they have.

 

“Don't get the impression that just because you've done fucked up things to me that I'm blameless. I'm not. It's something I denied for a long time. I blamed you for everything; I blamed all the men in my life for how terrible everything ended up, but let's be honest. I had a choice. I could have left, I could have said no.”

 

“Even with Thanos?”

 

Unlike him, Sigyn doesn't even wince at the name.

 

“Do you really think I fucked him just for a bit of heroin? Those were party favors, Loki. I gave him what he wanted and he got me jobs and extra money.”

 

“Money I shot up with-”

 

“Ah, well, yes. That I can blame you for. But you were further gone than I was, my dear. I had to take care of you. No one else would.”

 

Loki feels like it's a lie. He knows that if he'd only quit when he could, if he'd broke free before he'd gotten in too deep with Thanos he could have depended on Thor, on his mother. Nevermind Odin's supposed command to banish and disown him. Frigga would have found a way, he knows it.

 

“Look, I'm just saying that if you'd never met me, you'd never be dealing with all this...this-”

 

Sigyn shakes her head and glares at him. “Bullshit. I lived my entire life with people who used me to get what they wanted.” She blinks back angry tears and sucks in a slow breath. There's a strength in her gaze that makes him rather proud. It's a far cry from weeks earlier when she'd broken down in his living room.

 

“My father used me to get back at my mother. My mother used me to make money as a child. TV shows, modeling competitions, beauty pageants. Whatever she could do. And everyone else who I came in contact with. Agents and handlers and publicists. The best thing I ever did was get out the limelight, out the public eye. God only knows why I started modeling again. I guess I thought I was past all that by then and...well...”

 

She gives him a bittersweet smile.

 

“We were gonna take over the world, remember?”

 

He does. He smiles as well, covers her hand with his own and tries not to cry.

 

“I was gonna be the next Kate Moss,” she continues, laughing. “I was gonna be something, somebody. Not a washed up child actor in two bit parts, but a real actress. An Oscar winner. I was going to take the industry by storm. And you,” she says, squeezing his hand, “you were going to have my back through it all.”

 

He remembers a time when the drugs were just something they did on weekends to take the edge off, when his parents hadn't stopped talking to him, when he could dream of a bright future with Sigyn. He'd get his own practice someday and she'd be a world class supermodel and they'd be a power couple, the cream of the crop. He would probably always be a little sad that their plans had gone down the drain. And he'd spent nearly a decade blaming himself alone for it.

 

“Whatever happened to us, Loki?”

 

She's quiet now, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

 

“I don't know,” he says after a time. He doesn't. But perhaps there never will be a concrete answer to the whys and hows. He only knows the outcomes. And he'll always regret them.

 

“I suppose it could have all been worse. Neither of us should have survived any of that. I snorted so much coke back then, I'm surprised I still have a nose.” She snorts. “You didn't get me hooked on any of that, by the way. I was already doing lines when you met me. I guess maybe you encouraged it, but...”

 

“I could have been a better husband, a better friend,” he says.

 

“Oh, I won't argue with you on that. I'm just saying that you're not the only one to blame in all this mess. I knew I was pregnant and I still shot up. I had the chance to get help, to save that baby and I didn't. I cared more about being high than protecting that little life and I'll always pay for that. I'll always hate myself for it.” She takes a sip of her cooled tea and meets his eyes once more.

 

“One day, maybe, I'll forgive myself for that. Maybe. But I've already forgiven you. I just want you to forgive me. That's all I need from you.”

 

Loki wants to wrap her into his arms and tell her that he's never once hated her for anything that ever happened. He wants to reassure her once more that she's the victim in all this, that had she never met him she'd have gotten clean, and been safe and happy without him.

 

But he realizes the woman in front of him is not the girl he met. She's strong, though broken still, and he knows with time and effort and the love of her boys and her husband she'll mend all those cracked, sharp pieces. It had been a slow, long process for him and would be for Sig. But she would make it. And he knew that he'd always care about her, that she'd always have a place in his heart.

 

“I loved you, you know. No matter how grimy it got.”

 

She smiles, this time a brilliant and beautiful one and for a moment he's reminded of that baby faced seventeen year old he'd met at the club.

 

“Oh, I know you did. It's the one thing that kept me going for a while. That you loved me, that we loved each other. You know, for a few years, we had something wonderful.” She leans in toward him and tugs a lock of his hair the way she used to when she was happy.

 

“We still can. I honestly think you're the first person that ever loved me. I'd like to have you as my friend, Loki. Truly.”

 

Loki feels the little hole that had been in his heart start to slowly mend and he sucks in a sharp breath. He leans up to press a kiss to her forehead, and smooth a few stray strands from for her face.

 

“I'd be honored to have you as my friend, Sigyn. Absolutely honored. And your Baldwin, too.”

 

She grins at that, sitting back and clapping her hands happily.

 

“Oh, you'll love him, Loki! You will. He's a gentle heart and he's so good to me and...”

 

“That's all I want, Sig. I want you to be happy.”

 

She nods and for the first time in a very long time he feels as though everything is going to be alright.

 

“I think I will be. I really do.”

* * *

 

True to his word, the second that Sigyn calls, Baldwin comes to New York after her. He's a thin man, with sandy blonde hair and sharp eyes, but he's incredibly kind and there's a silent sort of security about him that Loki likes. He's sure it's what drew Sigyn to him in the first place.

 

He greets Loki with a firm handshake and a smile, though Loki had been nervous the entire hour he'd waited with Sigyn in the airport. Behind him, two small boys follow, obviously sleepy from hours on an airplane, but the moment they see their mother, they perk up, rushing toward her with happy little cries and giggles.

 

Sigyn is all tears as she embraces them, scooping them up in her arms and spinning around.

 

“Oh my babies, how are you!”

 

“We missed you mummy,” the oldest says. He's quiet like his father, his little round face shining with happiness. The baby boy is a squirmy, chirping little thing with hair like Sigyn's and eyes like pools of cool water. He presses kiss after kiss into his mother's cheeks while she laughs and laughs.

 

“Did you like your vacation, mummy?” he asks.

 

“It was good for me,” Sigyn says, after a moment to collect her thoughts. “Were you good for your Papa and your Bubby?” Archie nods his head seriously, though his brother protests.

 

“He tried to melt my Tonka truck, he hasn't been good! Papa made him take money from his allowance and buy me another-”

 

“I only did it 'cause he said I smelled like feet.”

 

“You did. You wouldn't take a bath.” Everett crosses his arms and glares at his brother as if that explains everything. Sigyn glances up to her husband and he only shrugs, sighing long-sufferingly.

 

“It's been a wild few weeks, my love,” he said softly, and he pulls her into a gentle hug. “I've missed you too. You don't know how happy I was to get that call, you don't-”

 

Baldwin swallows and composes himself, as Sigyn reaches up to wipe a stray tear from his cheek.

 

“And this is Mr. Odinson?” he says, turning to Loki with a friendly smile.

 

It's enough to make Loki want to cry. He doesn't deserve this man's kindness, but he has it. He nods, extending his hand out to Baldwin’s and shaking it. “It's nice to meet you, sir,” Loki says, trying his best to keep the tremble of emotion out of his voice. Baldwin grins and pulls Loki in then for a brisk hug, taking him completely by surprise.

 

“I'm no sir,” he protests. “That was my late father. I'm just old Winnie.” He steps back a bit to give Loki some space, and runs his hands through his hair. “I want to thank you, for what you've done to help Sig. Truly. You're a good friend.”

 

Loki's blown away by that statement and nearly doesn't feel the little tug at his pants leg, he's so distracted. When he looks down, a pair of blue eyes look up at him, the chubby face innocent and sweet.

 

“Are you a friend of Mummy's?”

 

Loki nods. “I like to think I am. Are you Archibald?”

 

“Archie,” he corrects, and grins. “Can I be you friend too?” He raises his arms up toward Loki and wiggles his fingers, expecting to be picked up and Loki glances to Sigyn and then to Baldwin, confused but happy to oblige with permission. Sigyn blinks back tears and nods, clasping Everett to her tightly, and Loki scoops the little boy into his arms.

 

“I'd love to have you as a friend, Archie. Absolutely.”

 

“You'll have to have me as one too, you know,” Everett says with all the authority a six year old can muster. “I'm the eldest and I have to look after him. Papa says so.”

 

Loki extends a hand toward the boy, who wiggles out his mother's grasp and accepts it, smiling satisfactorily.

 

* * *

 

The Grants stay in New York for a few more days, long enough for the boys to see Central Park and Coney Island. Baldwin takes them to the museum one day, while Sigyn takes a few hours to do some shopping on her own. She comes back with purpose in her step and something behind her eyes that Loki can't quite name. Whatever it is, it's a good thing. He hasn't seen her this glowing since they first married long ago.

 

“So you're not going to guess what I did today,” she says, setting her bags on the counter near the toys that Loki had gotten the boys. “Besides shopping, of course.” Loki doesn't miss the Chanel and Gucci; no matter what, Sigyn always had expensive tastes. It's a good thing that Winnie has the peerage and an inheritance behind him.

 

“You'll have to tell me,” Loki says, pulling out a few cups for afternoon tea.

 

“Well, I was in Manhattan and bored and decided to try and find that place in Queens we used to go to for lunch.”

 

He hums in acknowledgment. Those sun dappled days at the little Cuban shop had seemed so long ago. There was a sweet sense of nostalgia around them, though, where previously there'd been pain. He smiles, though he hates to disappoint her.

 

“It's been torn down.”

 

Sigyn sighs. “I was so upset when I found out. But I found another little cafe a few blocks over that is just...amazing. The best food I've had in a long time.”

 

Loki stops filling the decanter with tea and stares at a spot on the counter. He can think of only one cafe a few blocks over she could have gone to.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Sigyn is silent for a while, and when Loki looks up, there's a soft smile on her face.

 

“You didn't tell me she was so pretty, Loki.”

 

“Sig...why?”

 

“Because you've been moping around this apartment since I've gotten here. I won't pretend like I didn't think it was all because of me, but I know she has something to do with it.”

 

He scrubs his face and sighs.

 

“If she wanted me, she'd call me. She'd come over. She knows where I live.”

 

Sigyn taps her freshly manicured nails against the countertop and stares at him until he looks into her eyes.

 

“You know she waited on me, though I could tell it made her nervous. She sucked it right up and came over and asked what she could get me to drink. And when I said Perrier, she laughed. It's a pretty laugh. Do you know what she said when I asked her to have a seat?”

 

He shakes his head.

 

“She goes, 'Look, I'm sure you're happy with him and everything and I'm happy for the two of you but this is kind of weird.' I didn't mean to laugh, I really didn't, but I did. And she...she took that the wrong way.”

 

Sigyn clears her throat. “I backtracked and said I just needed to talk. That it didn't have anything to do with you and I-”

 

“Did you tell her that there isn't a you and I? Not like that, anyway.”

 

She nodded. “Eventually, yes. But look, we just chatted at first. I asked her about work and her artwork and everything. Said I'd liked the pieces you owned in your place and she kind of opened up after that. She's so interesting and fun! Oh, she loves what she does so much, you can see it in her face. And when I finally brought you up, well...she kind of got quiet and didn't say much.”

 

That gave him the barest spark of hope and he hated how he desperately clung to it.

 

“I told her that you and I were friends. That's it. I told her about Winnie being in town, showed her pictures of the boys. And then her boss got sour with her for sitting during her shift and she quit. Right there on the spot, said she was done with his griping and quit. And we left, after my sandwich, and walked around town a bit and sat in the park close by and chatted some more.”

 

Sigyn gave a conspiratorial smile.

 

“I told her that maybe you were wanting to see her. I told her that perhaps you'd been missing her quite a bit and that she was all you talked about.”

 

“Sigyn, what are you playing at?” he asks, though his heart is stammering in his chest at the idea of talking to Hilde again after a month. He had missed her, tremendously. And besides worrying over Sigyn's well being, Hilde was all he really did think about.

 

“I'm not playing at anything...unless you count helping my best friend out playing at something. I'm simply saying that if you maybe called her sometime soon, like, I don't know, this evening...she'd probably answer.”

 

She moves over to stand beside him, placing a slim hand on his shoulder. “Look at me, Loki,” she says softly, and gives him sympathetic look. “I don't want to see you alone and lonely anymore than you want to see me hurt and in pain. And I know she makes you happy.”

 

“I thought people weren't supposed to make you happy,” he says in way of protest. It's a weak one.

 

“Nope. They aren't, if you ask most therapists and shrinks, but let's be real. The right person can truly make you happy. The right person can help heal you, can help save you. You've got to do most of that yourself, but sometimes, another person is the push it takes to truly be whole again. And even if you never quite are whole again, sometimes the right person will be the glue that keeps you together while you stitch together the parts you do have.” He knows she's talking of Baldwin in her case, that she's alluding to Hilde in his. He wants so badly for this to be true that he's thinking of maybe, just maybe, biting the bullet and making that phone call.

 

He's quiet after that, contemplative, and he stares at his phone until the whistle of the kettle draws him away from it.

 

“Pour me a cup, Loki,” Sigyn says, sliding the china over toward him. “We'll come up with a game plan. And maybe throw a little dinner party before I go home, if that phone call goes as well as I think it will.”

* * *

 

The phone call goes to a full voice box instead of how Sigyn wants it to go and she shoots him a sympathetic look. But Loki doesn't let it bother him any. It was enough to think that Hilde had thought of him, in some way. He once again fell back and decided to let her come to him when she was ready to.

 

The Grants leave in the early morning on a Tuesday before he's got to go back to work. There's hugs and kisses from each of the boys on his cheeks, and Everett is almost beside himself with devastation at the fact that Loki can't come with.

 

"I'll try and come visit sometime soon," he promises, and the little boy sniffles, his bright eyes spilling over though his mother rocks him on her hip and coos at him. "You'll have to show me the garden you've got started and the birds that live in the tree beside your bedroom window. I won't know where it is without you."

 

That makes him smile, if only a little, and then Archie hugs his legs tight until they have to go through security and wave goodbye. He leaves Winnie with a hug and a handshake and pulls Sigyn in tight, pressing a kiss to her temple.

 

"Take care of you," he says softly, so only she hears.

 

She smiles against his cheek, her own tears bubbling forth but she somehow manages to push them back and grants him a watery smile. She is beautiful and brilliant and for a second, he remembers just why he'd fallen in love with her in the first place fifteen years before. He's happy that love is there, though it's settled and grown into a deep friendship. He's grateful to still have her in his life, thankful that this woman will always be his in some kind of way.

 

"I'll do my best," she finally responds, pulling away and meeting his eyes. They're serious, in that way they get when she really wants him to listen, so he does. "Don't let her get away, Loki. Don't."

 

He knows what she's talking about. There's no time to argue and he doesn't want to anyway. So he nods and lets her go as her fingers brush his and squeeze for just a moment, her smile knowing and gentle, her head high.

 

Sigyn, he's sure, will be just fine.

 

And he thinks he will, too.

 

* * *

 

He tries her phone again later that evening, but still nothing, so he leaves it be for a while and settles for taking care of himself. It's been a while since he'd gotten a haircut. He takes off nearly six inches of shoulder sweeping locks and gets it lightened a bit so it's no longer the harsh black but a lighter, warmer brown. He lets his beard grow in a little bit, stops straightening his hair so much until it curls around his temples like it had when he was a kid. And he goes back to the gym after weeks away, stepping inside on a bright Saturday near the end of October at 8:30 in the morning.

 

It's almost as if he had never left.

 

"We're doing legs today," Sam says by way of a greeting, slapping his back the way he always did, his grin easy and contagious. "Can't walk around looking like a bowed up ass chicken, you know."

 

Loki snorts out a laugh and slides on a head band to keep any stray hair from falling into his face. It's not long enough for a hair tie anymore, but it still could be a nuisance. Sam glances in his direction as he goes through his stretches and nods his approval. "I like the cut, man. Suits you."

 

"You look at least ten years younger," Bucky adds, joining them in a rush as he slings his bag over into the corner. "Sorry I'm late."

 

"Uh huh. I told you to go to bed on time last night."

 

"I did! 10 on the dot, just like you told me." There's a sparkle in Bucky's eye that speaks of probably getting into bed at 10 but falling asleep much later. Loki wonders on exactly what the cause of that could be, and then thinks of how much he's probably missed from the group chats since August.

 

"You're going to fill me in, right?" he asks, and the two friends glance between each other, then back to Loki, and chuckle.

 

* * *

 

Bucky tells him to dig around in the main chat to get caught up but he's almost certain he'll never get an actual update by how busy it'd been. He has to scroll back so long on his phone to read everything that's happened that he nearly gives up.  While he sits outside of the café across from the gym, he takes the plunge and says a simple hi, getting a wave from Natasha, who takes pity on him and gives him cliff notes on what's been going on.

 

"Welcome back, by the way," she says over the line. She's in the middle of a conceal and carry class and figures it'll take her less time to give him a call instead of trying to text during her break. "We missed having your insight."

 

It's said in the same deadpanned tone she types with and Loki can't help but smile. But he agrees; he'd missed talking to all of them, as well.

 

"So, look. I've got about ten minutes before I've got to get back to work, but I can at least catch you up on what's going on. We'll start with the basics. Sam and Maria's engaged."

 

"Yeah, he uh...told me at the gym this morning."

 

That had most definitely been a surprise. He wasn't even aware that Sam and Maria were _dating_ , much less getting to the serious stuff like engagements and what have you. But maybe that was because most of his existence had been wrapped up in Hilde. It was nice to focus on other things for a change, no matter how dismissive that sounded.

 

It was healthy, though. And that was always a good thing.

 

"You know about the Maui trip, too then?"

 

He had a vague recollection of hearing about Maui from Shuri but didn't have the details so Nat gave him a quick synopsis of that. "Now, you're gonna have to ask her for all the deets or go digging in the chat, but long story short...Beth is moving to California, Ryan got into med school, and Peter Parker is gay. He's apparently in love with his best friend from high school. Ned something or another, I don't know. Anyhow, Shuri's not bothered by it any because they didn't have any 'spark' I guess. She's so damned mature. I would have been a mess at that age even if the guy wasn't my type. Ego and all."

 

He laughs at that and almost asks her how old she actually is cause he has no idea, but he decides against it. That never worked out well in the long run. Either way, he figures she can't be too much older than Shuri's 21.

 

"Uh, and Afropunk was _okay_ but Gamora said it'd have been better had you been there. I'm sure Hilde agrees. Nobody really hears from her much, though. I've been kinda worried but-"

 

"You mean she hasn't been in chat or anything?"

 

That was odd. But maybe there was something else going on and she had to figure it out for herself. Maybe she had needed the same thing he had, a sabbatical. Everyone was so great, yeah, but sometimes they could be a little bit much.

 

"She pops in enough so we know she's alive and of course she's still living at Shuri's but, nothing spectacular is going on. I think she mentioned last night that she quit the diner."

 

Well, that verified what Sigyn had said. And though he would miss the turkey clubs and home fries, the old orange plasticine seats, the jukebox, he knew she was destined for bigger and better. He hoped she found it, even if he wasn't there with her when she did.

 

But god, he wanted to be.

 

"Oh, wow. Okay. And uh, you know about the Bucky/Darcy situation, yeah?"

 

"Mmhm. Or some of it. Buck won't say much, but I think he's alright now. Mostly. He seems to be taking it well. No grudges or anything like some people get. How's Darcy? I meant to text her a few days ago and ask after her, but I don't know her nearly enough to just spring that kind of question on her."

 

"She's okay. I think she's going to fall back from the whole dating thing for a while and kinda find herself."

 

"Hmmm. Understandable."

 

And if she ever built up the courage, he mentally amends, she'd probably call Ian and reconnect, but every time he'd asked if she'd done it, she'd made up an excuse. He had half a mind to just call the guy for her. He wonders how hard she'd smack him if he took her out for lunch and then-

 

He grins at the thought. He can handle a little bit of a bruise if it meant Darcy got her Ian back. He chats with Nat for a little longer and promises her he'll not be a stranger no matter what happens between he and Hilde. And he thinks he can handle that at least-friendships with the people who'd taken him in like family and had treated him like a person regardless of his past.

 

He just wishes he could reconnect with the one who'd started it all. With the softest sigh, he pulls out his phone and scrolls to his recent calls, pressing on Hilde's number and holding his breath.

 

 

She doesn't pick up, but the voicebox isn't full and that's something.

 

 

"Hey Hilde," he says, clearing his throat and staring out at the street. It's an easy Saturday late morning and it's going to be a beautiful day, he knows. "I thought I'd just...I've wanted to..."

 

He curses to himself and stares at the phone for a long second and then starts over.

 

"I'm just calling because I miss you. And I'm sorry. And I'd like to see you again, at least to apologize. Call me if you need me. I'm always here."

 

He hangs up and finishes his green tea, slips his phone in his pocket, and heads to the Walgreens on the corner for Halloween candy and last minute decorations.

 

* * *

He’s making dinner the night before Halloween when she shows up.

 

Etta James plays on the record player. It’s one of Frigga’s old records he’d probably ‘borrowed’ some years back and had found its way into his record box. He wonders, when he pulls the vinyl from the sleeve, where her others are. He makes a mental note to shoot Thor a text and ask after them. It’s one more thing he’d like to have to tether her memory to his new life, the after of his breakdown and rehabilitation and rebirth. So far, all he has is the well-worn but well kept copy of _At Last!_ in his possession but he figures that for now, it would be enough.

 

There’s rice in the cooker and butterflied chicken breast on the grill, roasted potatoes kept warm in the oven, and a peach cobbler in the crock pot he’d started before work that morning. It’s enough food to feed himself for an entire week, and he’s got meal prep containers lined up on the island for lunches. He’s been trying to follow Bucky’s meal plans as best he can without getting frustrated with the inevitable chicken overload. There was only so much poultry he could stand at a time. But so far, so good. And there was always salmon and turkey and roasted duck, the bougiest protein choice he’d decided on since looking through the menus with his mother for his 18th birthday party. The memory makes him chuckle and he makes another mental note to ask Thor if the cook left her duck recipe lying anywhere in the old house.

 

He's preoccupied with making sure his chicken doesn’t burn when the knock comes at his door. For a moment, he thinks he’s imagining things, and he pauses what he’s doing to focus on his surroundings. There’s nothing but Etta’s crooning for a second and then, a thump thump thump, hard and a little impatient and he almost forgets to breathe because no one knocks at his door like that except her.

 

Loki turns the stove down to warm, wipes his hands on the towel by his stovetop, and takes deliberate, slow steps to his front door. It’s an exercise in keeping his heart rate down and his breathing even. It’s not like he’s meeting the President or the Queen of England.

 

No. He’s only seeing the woman he loves after nearly two months of silence.

 

Before she can knock once more he opens the door a crack, just to be certain it’s her, and what he sees nearly makes him laugh. He’s equal parts amused and befuddled, the way he always is whenever she looks up at him through those dark lashes. Only this time, she’s soaked head to toe and shivering a bit, her curly hair plastered against her cheeks and her lip trembling. It takes him a moment to realize that she’s probably cold from the rain, and an embarrassingly long time to remember that it’s even raining out, that it’s dropped to about 45 degrees and she’s got to be miserable.

 

Without a word he opens the door and ushers her in, digging around in his fresh laundry and finding her a still warm towel from the dryer. He wraps her in it and feels his heart stutter when she sighs, her eyes bright, her smile tremulous and a little shy.

 

“Thanks. The bottom fell out on the way over and-“

 

“It’s fine.” He draws in a deep breath and watches her as his hands dry her soaked hair idly. “It’s alright.”

 

She blinks, nods and then glances around, her nose picking up the smell of his dinner. “You weren’t, uh, busy were you?”

 

He shakes his head. He was never too busy, not for her anyway. “Just making dinner. And lunch.”

 

“Oh.”

 

He nods because he can’t think of anything else to say that doesn’t sound utterly daft. He doesn’t realize he’s stopped moving the towel until she reaches up and clasps the hands he has on either side of her head and the jolt of her cold hands shock him out of his stupor.

 

“You need to get out those clothes,” he starts, and she raises a brow at his wording, then starts to laugh so hard she snorts.

 

And just like that, it all comes back rushing to him in almost painful waves. He loves her. He loves Brunnhilde Savereau and he needs her so much and he was so stupid, why did he ever-

 

“You know, I was hoping you hadn’t lost your sense of humor.”

 

“I was hoping you’d answer your phone,” he dares to say, and from the way her eyes dart down, he figures she was just as terrified as he he’d been making the call. Only, she could choose not to answer, though a little part of him had hoped she wouldn’t. Maybe he wasn’t ready, not at the time. Maybe everything that happened was for a particular reason and maybe whatever calls she’d missed or declined meant that she’d show up here, on his doorstep the night before Halloween, cold and drenched and beautiful.

 

Maybe.

 

“Yeah. We need to talk about that.”

 

He nods, because they do. No matter what happens, they need to have some sort of discussion. He hopes, and harder than he has in a while, that this will go the way he wants it to. That’s all he wants, really. Her.

 

“You really do need to get out those clothes, though,” he says, taking the towel and tossing it back in the dirty laundry. He finds her another and she strips right in the laundry closet, leaving on nothing but her underwear, mercifully still dry. She wraps her hair and tugs on one of his button downs and he makes her a plate of grilled chicken and rice, piles it high with potatoes and pours her a glass of lemonade.

 

And as they sit at his island and eat, Etta James sings and they talk.

 

“I…may have overreacted.”

 

“You didn’t.”

 

She shakes her head, little droplets of water slipping from the towel and down her temples. “No. I did. Listen. Let me just…”

 

She takes a bite of potatoes and sighs a bit around her food. “This is so good…where’d you learn to cook?”

 

“YouTube.” He’d had to pick up some sort of culinary skill after moving out of Thor’s place. There was only so much takeout a person could stand and it gave him something else to occupy his mind. He realizes he’s never cooked dinner before for her, only breakfast, and he makes it a note that if she gives him another shot, he’ll make her dinner every night for the rest of his life.

 

“Yeah, I probably need to watch a few vids. I’m sick of mac and cheese and Shuri can’t boil water.” He smiles at the mention of the younger woman but doesn’t ask after her. He wants her to continue her previous train of thought so he keeps quiet and lets her swallow.

 

“Anyway. It was a very bad few days.”

 

“Savannah.”

 

She’s quiet and then she nods, offering him an apologetic smile. “I get like that every year. I don’t know why I…I should have said something, I should have warned you ahead of time.”

 

“And I should have been attentive enough to remember. I’m sorry.”

 

“I know. Anyway, Van’s death, and then this weird feeling like you were hiding something from me. And you were. I mean, it wasn’t what I imagined but it was…” She wipes her mouth with her napkin and meets his eye. “I’m sorry for calling your ex wife a druggy.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t…I didn’t let you explain to me why you kept all that from me. Cause there’s a reason, yeah?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Which is?” She waits for him to explain and he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, to think of how he wants to say this. He figures a simple approach is best. There’s no use in trying to use metaphors and similes when all he needs to say is…

 

“I was scared.”

 

And that was the truth. He was. He still is, a little, but he knows now she means so much more than him than his fear was worth.

 

“Of what? That I’d walk off and leave if you needed to help someone?” She shakes her head and almost scoffs but then seems to reconsider it. “Okay…so maybe…I may have. I don’t know. But-“

 

“But I should have said something either way,” he finishes. “I was terrified that I’d push you away if I did one thing wrong. It didn’t matter what; if I listened to the wrong music or put on the wrong shirt or overloaded you with too much too soon.”

 

“Loki…”

 

“I just…” He scrubs at his face and tries to get it out, but it’s hard to put it into words. “I put you on a pedestal. You were the first person to see me, to see Loki, after everything I’ve been through. You saw what I’ve done and who I used to be and you wanted me anyway. And I was so afraid of losing that. I ended up losing it anyhow.”

 

“I don’t imagine I made it easy for you to tell me, though,” she says by way of apology. He wishes she didn’t feel like she owed him any sort of sorry, but he’ll hear her out regardless. “I’ve been told I give off an intimidating aura.” He smiles at that and sips his lemonade, watching as color pops up on her cheeks. “And maybe I’m not the most open person on the planet. I hide a lot. It’s sorta my safety net, you know? After I lost Van, I couldn’t risk being that open with another person. I didn’t think I’d survive it if they didn’t stick around or if something happened to them.”

 

She looks down to her plate and bites her lip and her voice quivers when she speaks again.

 

“I thought about drinking again. On and off. I actually…I went to the corner store and picked up a six pack and walked around with it for fifteen minutes before Rocket walked in and started talking to me about a hockey game.” She chuckles a little, raspy and a bit hollow. “I don’t even watch hockey, Loki. Maybe he realized…I guess he…it’s whatever. Anyway, I put it back and went home and took a bath and stared at my phone and wanted to call you but-“

 

“You should have. I’d have answered.” He would have no matter what, he knows this.

 

“I couldn’t.”

 

“Why?”

 

She shrugs like it’s obvious.

 

“Pride. I’d blessed you out on a street corner and called your ex-who wasn’t even a threat and only needed your help-everything but a child of god. What kind of person does that then turns around and calls and whines about how she’s itching for a fifth of Kentucky Dale?”

 

“The one who knows that the man she’d been angry with-and rightfully so-would forgive her that transgression in light of the circumstances.” He leans forward and takes her hand in his, the corner of his mouth lifting when she slides her fingers through his. That feels so right, so natural. “I only wish we’d have gotten all this sorted earlier, but perhaps there’s a reason we didn’t. Maybe we needed that break.”

 

“Maybe, yeah. I mean, you seem to be doing okay.”

 

“And you do too.”

 

“I called Bucky that night and stayed at his place. Shuri was in Maui, you know. She took off with Ryan and Beth and that little Parker kid and they lived it up in paradise for a few weeks.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

He doesn’t mention that Natasha had told him. He likes that she thinks she’s the first person to tell him about the trip. It’ll give them something to chat about. Later. They can chat later, he banks on that.

 

“And I was so lonely without you. I got used to always having you around.”

 

He can’t stop the grin forming on his face because the idea that someone actually missed him makes him feel like he was actually worth something, triple when it came from Hilde.

 

“I was used to calling you when I woke and wishing you a good morning,” he agrees. “It was odd not to.”

 

Hilde presses her lips together and blinks back tears. Hell. He’d made her cry again. But maybe this wasn’t a bad cry, so he tries not to feel so rotten about it.

 

“You think you wanna try again?”

 

He’s been hoping she’d say something like that since she’d walked through the door.

 

“From the beginning?”

 

She shakes her head and laughs, the sound of it warming him straight through.

 

“God, no. Fuck. From where we left off. That would make us strangers and I can’t bring strangers to Bucky’s shindigs. I can’t sit in a stranger’s lap.” He wants to quip that she could and probably would because she’s bold like that, but he settles for a smile. It’s genuine, and it feels so right. “We’ve got a lot of stuff we need to work on, you know, but-“

 

“But it can be good. _We_ can be good.”

 

They can. They need to talk more, open up, stop second guessing and holding back but yes, it can be good. It will be. He puts that into the universe.

 

“Yeah.”

 

For a while he sits with her at the island like that, her hand in his, his lemonade sweating on the coaster and the rest of her potatoes going cold. It’s nice to just be, quiet and still and comfortable and the silence is only broken by the loud buzzing of the drier.

 

“Your clothes are dry.”

 

“Okay.”

 

She doesn’t move to stand up, opting instead to unwrap the towel from her mostly dry hair and shifting in her chair. Slim fingers stroke the skin of his thumb, his knuckles, then come around and turn in his palm and tickle him there. She spreads her hand out in his and then up his wrist and higher and higher until she’s got her hand on his chest, on his heart, and he presses it there, leans down and brushes his lips against her fingers.

 

“Loki.”

 

He glances up and watches her watching him, sees the way she takes in every inch of him as if she’d been starving. He holds his breath when she leans forward, quiet as a whisper, and then she reaches out and strokes the soft stubble that is his beginner’s beard, a smile curling on her lips and her eyes glancing up to take in all of him.

 

“You got a haircut.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

She stretches up a bit until her nose brushes his and her mouth is so close to his. He’d missed it, so much, her kisses and her touches and he wants so very badly to forget his dessert and pin to her to his bed and show her how much he’d missed her with his hands and his tongue.

 

“I like it.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Almost as if a spell is broken, she pulls away and slips off the seat, pattering into the laundry closet and taking the damp towel with her. It’s not nearly as warm now, but his heart still races and he closes his eyes for just a second, the whisper of her lips nearly on his. He wills himself to be patient; good things happened if he just let them.

 

And then she comes back, sans the towel, and she shrugs. He’ll never get enough of having her in his shirts like that. It’s almost mind numbingly sexy.

 

“Clothes are still damp. I guess I got soaked enough that I need another round.”

 

“Oh. Well.”

 

He fiddles with a stray napkin and tilts his head, watching her as casually as he can. But he can’t help the innuendos dancing around in his head about being soaked and needing a round and apparently, she can’t either, because she’s grinning that Cheshire cat grin of hers he loves so much.

 

He thinks he loves everything of hers, even the bad parts. He loves that she’s a hard nut to crack, that she gets angry about silly things, that she’s lived and survived through trauma and come out still swinging. He loves that she avoids alcohol like the plague and drinks ginger ales and cream sodas like they’re beers, that she’s almost always covered in paints and that there’s graphite and pencil shavings in her pockets or under her nails. He loves her curly hair and her full lips and her brown skin, her warm eyes, her hard laughs, her snorts.

 

He loves her. And one day, when she’s ready, when they’ve grown and gotten comfortable with each other enough that he doesn’t feel like he’s going to die if he tells her, he’ll tell her. But until then, he lets her wrap her arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, moaning out her name when she pulls him closer and nips at the pulse thrumming in his throat.

 

As her clothes spin, they make love and the rain falls harder and for the first time since August 3rd, he feels whole.

 

* * *

 

 

"Are you comin' to Pete and Mora's Halloween shindig?"

 

 

"I have no idea," he says. "I had bought some candy in case kids came by but..."

 

 

She snorts and shifts in his arms, her head on his chest and her arms around his middle. This is where she belongs, he thinks. This is exactly where he needs and wants her to be.

 

"Kids never come this way, you know that. I don't think I've ever even seen a child in this part of town."

 

She's right and really, he hadn't wanted to spend Halloween by himself. He'd thought of going to Thor and Sif's for horror movies. He wonders if he can do both. Maybe horror movies the night after would work out okay. He'll call and check in the morning.

 

"Okay, so Gamora's it is. Are we dressing up?"

 

"Of course. I'm thinking Mina Harker...you'd make a damned good Drac. And we can hit the after party at Buck's, of course."

 

"Of course." He'd missed Bucky's parties, more than he cared to admit. But he didn't have to. She knew. It was quiet for a while as they lay relaxed and content with each other in his sheets, and he found himself listening to the rain, near to drifting off. It was when she nudged him did he come back to.

 

"Hey."

 

"Hmm?"

 

"She was really sweet to me, you know."

 

"Sigyn?"

 

He can't imagine who else she'd be talking about but he wants to make sure. He's a little scared of talking about that interaction, though it'd seemed mostly positive, but he sucks it up and lets her continue.

 

"Yeah. She came in and she chatted with me and we walked around and talked some more and...I felt kind of bad about what I called her."

 

"It happens. I'm sure had I been in the same situation-"

 

"Well yeah. I didn't tell her any of that, of course. But she said she wanted to talk some more, so I got her number. I haven't called her or anything...you don't think that's kind of weird?"

 

"I think," he says, stroking her spine with light fingers, "that you should do whatever you feel is best. Though I think she'd very much like to get to know you. She seemed utterly smitten with you."

 

"She gets down like that?"

 

"No, no. She's just very...hmm. Sig is incredibly affectionate. With everyone."

 

" _Sig_...that's what you call her?"

 

He nods, smiling a bit at the nickname he'd dubbed on her long ago after their first date. "She used to call me Nancy-boy, occasionally." He chuckles at the expression on her face. "We were such assholes to each other sometimes, but we could be pretty sweet. She was Sig...I was Nancy-boy, you know. Like Sid and Nancy. It worked."

 

"I love it," she says with a giggle and he shivers at the warmth of her skin on his chest. "Though if anyone else called you that, I'd be a little upset."

 

"Well, yeah, so would I. And so would she. She was 110 pounds soaking wet when I met her but I've seen her knock a grown man out cold. Feisty little something."

 

He pauses and glances down at Hilde for a moment, trying to gauge how she feels. He doesn't want to spend the night talking about his ex wife with her naked in bed beside him. But she doesn't look upset at all. She waits on him eagerly, expecting more stories from his oddball, tumultuous past.

 

"Are you sure you're okay with, uh..."

 

"Mmhm." She pushes strands of wild, curly hair out her face and behind her and settles her cheek on her shoulder. "I'm honestly not jealous of anyone from your past. Not now. I mean, I know where the two of you stand. But if it'll make you feel a little better, I'll tell you about how Van asked me out in a bar in Germany. And what she got me for my birthday our first year together."

 

"That'll bring us about square, I think."

 

"Good. Now tell me about your goth boy phase, Lackey. I wanna know all about it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a mixtape posted in the summary part of this fic and also on my tumblr, if you'd like to give it a listen. I'm lilithenaltum over there, as always.


	10. Evergreen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our final chapter, everybody!
> 
> I love comments and kudos and all of you so don't be shy. Drop me a line or holler at me on tumblr!

Frost covered the outer edges of the large picture window in the café in which Loki sat. It was another milky sky December day, close to Christmas and almost mind numbingly cold, and for all the trouble that was worth, it still hadn't snowed. But there was a sort of festivity in the air that he’d always liked, even as a child. He was reminded of long, sleepy days in Mother’s arms during the holiday break, reading old Norwegian fairy tales and sipping cider while Father and Thor took off toward the mall for last minute presents and Auntie Anne’s.

 

As he sipped the coffee in his hand and waited on Darcy for their long awaited lunch date, he smiled at the memories that winter always brought with it, a slight pang in his chest that always accompanied his nostalgic musings, but not the usual stab of pain and regret that had gone along with it. He was tired of regrets. He’d gotten to the point of leaving all that behind him, of facing his past with the heart of someone who’d managed to survive what he shouldn’t have. And when he truly thought of it, of all the years he’d spent trying to kill himself in some round about way, he really shouldn’t have made it. But he had. And he was so thankful he had.

 

The door to the café dinged happily as Darcy came blowing in, her scarf wrapped up tight around her neck and her hands shivering as she flopped down in the booth opposite him.

 

“Could it possibly get any colder? Goddamn.”

 

He laughs, sliding her a large mug of spiced hot chocolate and smiling softly when she ‘oohed’ appreciatively.

 

“It could. Have you ever been to Norway in the winter?”

 

“Nope. Never thought of even attempting something like that. Don’t you guys actually have Santa over there?”

 

“You’re saying that like I’m still Norwegian.” He supposes he could still consider himself Norwegian; there would always be a strange undercurrent of Asgardian pride thrumming through him, though he now knew he’d actually been born in Finland. And there was the whole issue of having been in New York since he was a preteen, but that was just another factor in the mishmash makeup that was Loki Odinson.

 

It was a part of him, and he was beginning to really embrace it.

 

She grins, sips her drink and sighs happily. “Hit the spot, Lokes, thanks.” She’s quiet for a moment, a very content kind of quiet and he waits patiently for the details of her reunion with Ian. He’d been wanting to hear about it for a week now, but the both of them had been too busy to just sit and chat about it. He and Thor had decided to start their own practice under the Odinson name, bringing Bruce Banner along for the ride and it was a lot more work transitioning from being just another attorney in an office to being a partner in his own right. It would be a lot more work yet, but he was looking forward to it. And he’d gotten to bring Allison with him. She definitely deserved the pay raise.

 

“So.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Uh, well. We uh.”

 

She has the nerve to blush and he laughs then, leaning forward to chuff her on the shoulder. “First date back and the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off the other, huh?”

 

“Look, it’s been five years of longing on his end so-“

 

“ _His?”_

 

“ _His_. I’m serious, he told me…Loki, he said…” She pauses and lets out the softest sigh, the kind he’d only ever heard when someone was really and truly smitten. He’d remember hearing Sif sigh like that after Thor had proposed. It was so adorable. He wondered when he’d become such a sap and a romantic.

 

He’d always been a romantic, he thinks, just for a second as Darcy gathers her thoughts. But the sappy part hadn’t happened till Hilde. He smiles at that thought, and reminds himself to grab one of those huge cinnamon muffins for her on his way out. She had text him to let him know she would probably be at his place after work, once again.

 

“Ian was my first love, you know. And he told me that I was his and that when we broke up-you remember, it was mutual…sort of-he took some time to reassess what was going on with his head at the time. You know, he’d lost his grandma and he was doing the whole grad school thing. It was a lot. And…well, I don’t think either of us were mature enough for the relationship at the time.”

 

Darcy taps her nails on the ceramic mug in her hand and meets Loki’s eyes. There’s a sort of serenity there that he realizes he’d never really seen before. And he wonders if maybe he’d been so caught up in his own problems that he had never given thought to how discontent Darcy was.

 

“But you are now. And you’re going to give it another shot?”

 

She nods, smiles again. “He said he never stopped loving me. That just…I don’t think I’ve ever imagined that anyone could love me for five years without seeing me. Like, that just blows my mind, you know?”

 

He did know, in some way. He nods and takes a bite of his bagel, then leans back as she glances out the window and the two of them sit in companionable, but unusual silence. And then she glances at him and the usual Darcy is back, all ears and itching to hear about the plans he’s made for Christmas.

 

“Well, the plan is to spend half the day at Thor and Sif’s and the other with Hilde’s mom and dad since they’ll be in town. I think she’s heading to the station to pick them up tomorrow morning. Maybe tomorrow afternoon. Depends on how long the gallery stays open that night.”

 

Hilde was showing some new work at Wanda’s and it’s the most hyped up and anticipated thing he thinks has hit the group chat since Bucky’s Halloween after party. But the pieces Hilde were putting in the gallery were some of her best work and she’d be sharing the night with Gamora who was finally letting go of some of her most personal sculptures. Wanda had promised it was going to be a phenomenal showing and Loki was almost certain that there wouldn’t be a bit of artwork left before the night was over.

 

“So are they actually back together or…”

 

“Apparently. They’re thinking of doing a recommitment ceremony thing next year.”

 

He’d met Ginger and Henri via FaceTime a month before, right before Thanksgiving, and had been pleasantly surprised at how much they’d liked him. Loki almost suggested Hilde add her mom to the group chats (her dad didn’t bother with any social media) but she’d given him a glare and shut that down quick. “You do not want Mama in a damn group chat. We’ll get nothing but pictures of her in those Ray Bans Aunt Claire got her for her birthday and a billion inspirational quotes she pulled off Pinterest.” So, they settled for a private chat with just the four of them, and that had been nice as well, though Hilde was right about the quote posting. He found it really cute, though.

 

“Too cute. I love second chance love affairs,” she says with a sigh and he grins over his cup of coffee. He had to say that he did too, though this was more like a fourth or fifth chance. “It’s like, no matter what, if that person was meant to find you again, they will.”

 

“You’ve been watching way too many rom coms,” he says with a laugh but he feels the sentiment deep in his chest somewhere. There were second chances in different ways, like the one he’d gotten with Sigyn, like the second chance he’d had to actually have a life worth something, like the one he’d started after rehab with his brother that had flourished beyond his wildest dreams. And then there were the second chances he’d gotten with Hilde, of being able to just be himself and be loved and accepted with someone as wonderful as her, regardless of his flaws or her flaws and all the trauma from their pasts.

 

He wouldn’t be alive without second chances. He had a special spot reserved for them in his heart.

 

“And you’ve practically been living one,” she quips back, a twinkle in her eye that makes him want to blush.

 

“Have not. More like…one of those romance movies where everything looks bleak for a while and then it sorta starts to work out in the end.” He’s reminded of some movie he saw years ago where the couple got back together by the end and promised to make it work. He can’t think of the name, though.

 

“Maybe. But I still think that’s a rom com, Lokes. Besides, you’re a damn riot some days. You’ve definitely got the comedy part down.”

 

When they leave the café, Hilde’s muffin in hand and a cup of coffee to go for Darcy, she promises to keep him updated on her second date with Ian. “I’m pretty sure we’re just gonna spend all night in bed binging on Chinese and bad Netflix movies,” she says, waiting on the curb for the crosswalk to change. “And I’m pretty sure I’m gonna miss Christmas with Jane, too, if it ends up like it did that first night.”

 

“Horny little shits.” The giggle and snort she does is worth the odd look he gets from the older woman walking down the street beside them just then. He smiles at her genially and tries not to laugh too loud lest she think he’s laughing at her.

 

“That’s five years of pent up longing and want, you know. Can you really blame us?”

 

“Not at all. But don’t miss Christmas, okay? Jane would never forgive you.” He still had a soft spot for his brother’s old college girlfriend. He probably would have never met Darcy without her.

 

Darcy sighs and nods in agreement. “She would. But I don’t want her to have to. So we’ll probably peel ourselves out of the bed and away from each other long enough to go by her spot and have dinner. I’ll tell her you said hi.”

 

Loki gives her a hug before she darts across the street toward her train. It’s the long, lingering hug of someone who has finally found the happiness they’ve been looking for and it warms every inch of him, from head to foot.

 

He doesn’t mind the cold so much on his walk home.

 

* * *

 

Hilde’s curled up on the sofa when he gets in, the record player at her heels and her phone in hand. She’s laughing at something, probably something silly on the group chat, and he takes a moment to just watch her like this. She’s unaware that he’s home, in her own zone, hair down and across her shoulders and it startles him the way it always does just how beautiful she is. He thinks too of how lucky he is that he has her, that she’d chosen him to give her affection and time to.

 

He hopes, not for the first time, that she loves him as well.

 

She hadn’t said anything yet. He won’t rush her on the matter, knowing that actions were definitely more potent than words. He could tell in the way she touched him, in how she listened, in the ways she confided in him, that he meant quite a lot to her. But there was a part of him that still wanted to hear the words out her own mouth. He almost ached for it. And he wanted to tell her he loved her, too, but didn’t want to push too much on her too soon.

 

It was a struggle to accept that maybe what he thought was too much really was just enough, but he was doing better with that.

 

Hanging his coat and scarf on the rack by the door, Loki whistles softly and Hilde turns her head, her eyes lighting up when she sees him. He’ll never get tired of that, he doesn’t think. He hopes he doesn’t, anyway. She gave him butterflies when she looked at him, sent shivers down his spine when she grinned as if he was the brightest spot in her day. It made the trek through the cold all the more worth it, and he slid beside her on the couch, greeting her with a soft, sweet kiss.

 

“Good day?” he asks, and she nods, humming softly. He hands her the muffin and she thanks him, pulling it out and breaking off a large chunk.

 

“Mmhm. You?”

 

He gives her affirmative and pulls her close, sighing when she snuggles into his side. “Darcy and I finally got our lunch after seven years.”

 

Hilde laughs, pops the muffin in her mouth, and tip taps her fingers across his sweater.

 

“Eventually she’ll have to come over for dinner, you know,” she says between chewing. “How’s the thing with her and what’s his name going?”

 

“Ian? Good so far. I really think they’re going to make it this time.”

 

“Awwww, yay! God, I love a good love story.”

 

“You’re almost as bad as she is,” he says with a laugh. “She’s convinced we’re all living in a romantic comedy of sorts and that we’ll all get our happy endings at the end of the movie.”

 

Hilde raises her head and meets his eyes and he can’t resist tugging a bit of her curly hair forward into his fingers. She’d given him permission to play in her hair when he wanted. He didn’t think he could get much more lucky than that.

 

“I kinda like the idea of that, you know? It’s like this; no matter how shitty stuff gets, we’ll all manage to work it out by the time the credits roll. And maybe that’s a bunch of bloated sentimental bullshit, but I’m going with it.” She pauses for a moment and watches him contemplatively for a while. “You don’t think that’s silly, do you?”

 

He shakes his head. “Of course not.”

 

“Okay. Cause I was going to feel really fucking stupid if you said it was.”

 

“I don’t think anything you say is ever silly, sweetheart. And you most definitely are not stupid.”

 

Her smile is a blooming thing, spreading from her mouth all the way to her eyes and she leans up to kiss him again. “You’re so good to me, Lackey. Don’t ever change.”

 

“But change,” he says, “is a force for good sometimes. I think we all should evolve a bit.”

 

“Well, yeah, obviously. I’m just sayin’…don’t do the sweet shit and then do a 180 later.”

 

He can hear a hint of her insecurities still in her voice and he tries hard not to simply dismiss them with flowery words. He knows he won’t disappear or leave her cold and alone, but she needs the reassurance. And he tries his best to let her know that her feelings are valid, even if he’s convinced she has no reason to worry.

 

“I won’t. Though if I ever do, I’ll try my best to make up for it. I’m only human, after all.”

 

There’s another kiss and she drapes her legs across his lap, leans over on the couch, and changes the record on the turntable.

 

“What do you wanna listen to?” she asks, him and he doesn’t really care what she plays. He just wants to sit with her like this, all domestic and happy and comfortable. As much time as she spends at his apartment, he wonders why she hasn’t just moved in. She’s got a toothbrush in his bathroom, a few of her toiletries under the sink, her own apron for when they cooked together. And he’s noticed some of her curly hairs on his button downs from when she wears them to her new job. He doesn’t mind one bit. He loves the idea of it, honestly. He thinks of telling her she can wear whatever of his she wants, but he also likes the idea that she thinks she’s being sneaky.

 

“Whatever you want, darling,” he says, and she rolls her eyes, amused.

 

“I knew you were gonna say that. You’re gonna mess around and have me playing Hanson just on principle of the matter.”

 

“I happen to like Hanson,” he says though he honestly isn’t sure if he does or not. The only song he remembers was that MMMBop song he could never get away from in high school. “Trust me, if I can sit through whatever Shuri was playing at the Halloween party, I can deal with a little bubblegum pop.”

 

Hilde snorts and flips through the crate on the floor, pulling out a Stevie Wonder record and presenting it for his approval.

 

“That’ll work.”

 

“Good. Cause I wasn’t gonna ask you again.”

 

Hilde puts the needle on and leans back in the cushions, her phone in hand once more. The warmth of the song, and of Stevie’s crooning, juxtaposes with the icy chill of outside. But it’s cozy in his apartment, still warm muffin split between the two of them and her calves resting in his lap. He doesn’t think it could get much better than this.

 

They’re quiet for a while after, simply content to just listen to the music and be. She’s typing away in the group chat while he pulls out his kindle and starts on the book he’s been trying to finish for months. And then he hears a quiet gasp as Hilde scrolls through her phone, her whole face lighting up as she presents him with the device.

 

“Oh. My. God.”

 

He blinks and glances down at the phone, quickly reading through exclamations and congratulations to find that Gamora’s expecting again. “Baby Quill number 2 is due in July,” he reads off, grinning as he does so. “The kids will share a birthday, probably. God, I bet Pete’s bouncing off the walls at the news.”

 

“He’s been trying to get Mora to have another baby for years,” Hilde says happily. “I guess she finally decided to go for it. She did mention she was a little broody, with Groot growing up like a weed.”

 

“Her baby isn’t a baby anymore. That kid is one the smartest I’ve ever met.”

 

“He’s hilarious, too. Oh man…I’ve gotta start working on a present for them! A mural, maybe? Think she’ll let me do a mural on the wall?”

 

Loki pulls out his own phone and types out a congratulations to join the chorus of others. “I’m pretty sure she’d be over the moon if you suggested it.”

 

“And remember when I told you I used to crochet?”

 

“Mmhm. That’s been a while, though, yes?”

 

She had started a few weeks after finishing AA and though she had made a few hats and one very skinny scarf, she hadn’t picked up any hooks since.

 

“Too long. I still have a half done blanket I attempted to make for Bucky that I’ve never finished. And I have been meaning to get back into it…ooh, let me make a Pinterest board. Want me to add you?”

 

He smiles at her indulgently and pulls one of her feet into his lap, pressing his thumb along the heel over the fluffy socks she wears.

 

“Add me. Maybe I can learn to knit and we’ll make the baby sweaters and those little bootie things.”

 

“And we can make Sif and Thor’s kid a blanket and some tiny little-oh, Loki, _look_!”

 

She pushes the phone into his hand once again, and he pauses to scroll through pin after pin of cutesy crocheted baby things. He shoots her a look and his heart skips a little at how utterly excited and thrilled she is at the prospect of babies. It makes him hope for things he’s not sure he should hope for, at least not yet. But he lets the warmth of that hope stir a bit inside him before he manually adds himself to her new Pinterest board and resumes his foot massage.

 

“Are you getting broody, sweetheart?”

 

She blinks at him blankly for a moment, until a blush spreads out across her chest and her cheeks.

 

“Hell no. Nope. Nuh uh, not…”

 

“Just wondering.”

 

“I’m _excited_ , Lackey,” she protests, but he can hear some sort of wistfulness in her tone when she continues. “I mean, babies mean new beginnings and good things and you know how much I love new beginnings.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

“I’m serious! No babies.” When he raises a brow at that, she shrugs and her smile is sweet and a little secretive. “Not yet, anyway. I’ve got another ten or fifteen years left in me. I don’t have to worry about it now.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“You planning on having any?”

 

“You already know my answer to that,” he quips. He tugs her sock off and when she wiggles her toes, he tsks at the chapped polish. “Want me to give you a pedi?”

 

“If you wanna. And yeah, I know. You want twenty kids and a big ass farm upstate. You’re gonna call it New Asgardia and Thor and Sif will move in next door and we’ll have a guest house for the gang.”

 

“I specifically said _I_ ,” he mentions, softly, and she presses her lips tight. “But if you want to join me in my domicile pastoral dream life, I’d love to have you.” He would give anything to have her on a farm with him, raising a hoard of curly haired bright eyed babies and feeding a gang of fluffy chickens in the mornings.

 

She grins, though she covers her hand with her mouth and pushes her foot playfully into his arm.

 

“I bet you would, bae. I bet you would.” Hilde slides her feet from his lap, one sock on and the other off, and kisses him deeply. She skips off toward the bathroom, to where she’s got makeup and nail polish in a little caboodle under his sink. And as he watches her disappear down the hall, he thinks that perhaps he doesn’t have to wait for her to tell him first. Maybe he’ll tell her now, maybe he’ll say he loves her over dinner with his brother and sister in law or her parents, because he knows he does and he wants her to know, no matter if she was ready to tell him the same or not.

 

“What color?!” she yells from the bathroom, and it takes him a moment to remember what she’s talking about. Her toes. He’s going to paint her toes and then make them dinner and probably make love and she’ll spend the night again, a week long streak he was hoping she wouldn’t break after this.

 

“Red!” he answers. “It’s Christmas, sweetheart. Let’s paint ‘em red.”

 

* * *

 

Dinner at Thor and Sif’s is Christmas morning, eleven on the dot, and Hilde gets the bright idea to invite her parents along.

 

“Two birds and all that,” she says, as they get ready to pick Ginger and Henri up at their Airbnb. “And I don’t really want Buck to be alone on Christmas, so…I was thinking we could go swing by and grab him as well.”

 

“You think he’d be down?”

 

“I text him last night and asked, but he hasn’t replied.” She sighs and tilts her head to put on her new earrings. The two of them had already opened their presents to each other, and he’d gotten her a Van Gogh set from Erwin’s in Rockefeller, complete with a bangle bracelet that slid down her slim wrist as she raised her hand. “He’s been kind of in a weird spot lately and I just wanna make sure he’s okay.”

 

“Want me to call him, then? It’s possible he was already in bed when you text.”

 

“If you wanna.”

 

He grabs his phone and allows Hilde to finish getting ready as he sips the last of his tea and scrolls through for Bucky’s number. It rings twice, and then there’s a crisp greeting on the other end.

 

“Mornin’ Lokes! Merry Christmas if you celebrate. Happy Holidays if not.”

 

“Same to you, Bucky. How you feeling?”

 

There’s a slight hum on the other end and some shuffling and Loki waits patiently for Bucky to answer. Sounds like he’s rolling out of bed, though he’s awfully perky for someone who was spending Christmas alone.

 

“I’m uh…I’m good, man. I just-“

 

There’s a pause and then a slight chuckle. “Oh hell. Tell Hilde I’m sorry, but I’m just now getting her message.”

 

“I told her you’d probably turned in early,” Loki says, a little relieved that his friend hadn’t been too down in the dumps or purposefully avoiding anyone. He knew how that felt. And it was a lifelong struggle he’d have to deal with, no matter the amazing girlfriend and great friends. So, he could understand if perhaps Bucky just hadn’t wanted to be bothered.

 

“Ah well, I uh…”

 

There’s some more fumbling and then Loki hears the unmistakable sound of a woman’s voice in the background and now he’s completely engrossed in the conversation, so much so that he doesn’t even notice that Hilde’s perched on the couch with her heels in hand and her phone to her ear.

 

“Just a second, sugar,” Bucky says, and Loki coughs just so he remembers he’s got someone on the line and there’s that soft laugh, the kind where Loki knows Bucky’s just been caught but he’s not that upset about it.

 

“I need details,” he says in a rush, and Bucky snorts this time, his laugh deep and throaty.

 

“You sound like Mora and ‘nem, good god,” he groans, but it’s good natured and he sounds so…relaxed, almost happy. Definitely satisfied, Loki thinks, smirking, and that explains why he hadn’t answered the text the night before.

 

“They’re rubbing off on me. Doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got yourself a…well, what is she?”

 

“What is who?” Hilde asks, phone pressed to her ear, her face confused. She pauses and turns back to her own conversation for a moment. “No, Mama, I was talking to Loki…yeah, he’s on the phone with my friend Bucky and…uh huh, the one from AA. Mmhm. Yeah. That one.”

 

“Hilde’s asking after you. If you’ve gotten yourself another girlfriend, then you’re gonna have to explain to her why she didn’t know. She’ll be livid.”

 

Bucky sighs. “She won’t. She’ll understand. Nobody knew, dude. Nobody…knows, I guess. Not even Sam.”

 

“Why? Is she married, or something?”

 

“No! Hell no, I just…I wanted to keep this for myself for a little while, okay? I just…it didn’t start out serious or anything. But I just…I felt like if I brought her around and showed her off too soon I’d look like an idiot again. So I didn’t say anything.”

 

“Who’s married?!” Hilde demands again. “Mama, we’ll be over in about thirty, forty minutes, okay. Love you.” She slips her foot into her shoe and bends down to where Loki sits, watching his mouth intensely. It’s hilarious, and Loki almost starts laughing but Bucky is still talking.

 

“But look, how about this? I’ll ask her if she wants to meet up at your brother’s. We didn’t have any plans. We were probably gonna spend the day in bed, and I don’t have anything to cook so we would have probably starved. So it works out.” The phone’s muffled again but Loki can hear him calling toward whomever his guest is. “You wanna go have Christmas dinner with some friends of mine?”

 

Loki thinks he hears an affirmative but he’s somewhere between wanting to cry he’s trying not to laugh so hard, because Hilde’s facial expression is priceless. She looks on the verge of screaming, she’s so antsy to hear what’s going on.

 

“She said yeah. We’ll be a little late, but just text me their address, okay? You sure it’s alright?”

 

“It’ll be fine, Buck. Come on, we’d love to have you two.”

 

When he hangs up, Hilde lets out the loudest scream and Loki dissolves into peals of laughter.

 

“Buck’s got a new girlfriend, doesn’t he?!” she asks, hopping around excitedly, and when Loki nods she starts to laugh, grabbing her phone to text someone, Shuri or Mora or Nat, no doubt. His hand on top of hers stops her, however, and at her confused expression, he shakes his head.

 

“What?”

 

“He doesn’t want anyone to know just yet.”

 

He thinks she’ll be angry but her eyes widen and her mouth forms a surprised ‘o’. She moves closer and straddles his lap, her legs swinging on either side like a child’s.

 

“Oh hell. This is serious, then, this is…this is _the one_.”

 

“Huh. He said you’d understand,” Loki mentions idly and he starts with his tie. It crosses his eyes to try and get it tied himself, so Hilde takes over and does him up with an expert Trinity knot. “You’re really good at that, by the way.”

 

“I used to tie all of Papa’s ties when I was a kid,” she says proudly. “Five bucks says he’ll have his undone when we get to the apartment and want me to tie it.”

 

“I’m not betting money against you, sweetheart. I never win.”

 

Her grin is infectious. “Good, you’re learning. I do love this tie. Is this a birthday present?”

 

“Mmhm. From Allison.”

 

“It’s gorgeous.”

 

He raises his neck as she adjusts the knot and refolds his collar. “I do love a good stained glass themed anything.”

 

“I’m surprised you don’t have stained glass in your bathroom.”

 

“Don’t give me ideas.”

 

Almost begrudgingly, she slides off his lap and cocks her head, taking in his appearance and reaching over to smooth a bit of his curly hair out his brow. “You know,” she says, “you have a really weird obsession with Catholicism. What gives?”

 

He lifts his hand and meets hers as it slips through his hair, grasping her fingers and then bringing them to his lips for a kiss. It’s his thing with her, to kiss her hands, her tools she uses to create masterpieces and code and on occasion, to write with. He’s read some of her poetry and it’s phenomenal. He loves his Hilde, his creative and brilliant girl.

 

“It’s the goth way, sweetheart. The sacrilege, the incense and perfumery, the drama-”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“Exactly. You can’t say you’ve never watched an episode of The Borgias and didn’t think of how Goth Cesare is.”

 

She giggles and squeezes his hand tight. “I honestly did, I’ll admit. Super goth. Broody as hell. And sexy, too. Are all you goth kids so sexy?”

 

He tugs her down into his lap once more and makes her laugh by tickling her bare throat with his beard when he kisses it.

 

“Every last one of us.”

 

* * *

 

Just like he figured, Thor doesn’t mind at all that he’s got extra guests. If Loki didn’t know any better, he would assume he’d somehow planned this entire thing out. Besides he and Hilde, there was Ginger and Henri, and Bucky with his new girlfriend, Misty. She was beautiful, with smooth ebony skin and a crown of lush natural hair. And though she wore a coat as well as a long sleeved red velvet dress beneath, Loki caught sight of her left hand. She, much like her date, had a prosthesis. Hilde turned toward him when they walked into the dining room together, her eyes wide and a curious little smile dancing on her lips. He wanted to ask if perhaps there was a specific reason for that expression, but he held it for later.

 

At the moment, they’re all chatting over a superb spread of roast lamb and potatoes, apple salad with homemade vinaigrette dressing, garlic brussel sprouts and candied yams. Ginger complimented the lamb heartily. “Sif, this is so good. Please tell me you have a recipe.”

 

Sif patted her mouth with a napkin and smiled but she shook her head.

 

“I actually didn’t cook anything on this table, Mrs. Savereau,” she said humbly. “I may have helped to butter the dinner rolls, but...Thor took care of everything himself.” Thor grinned broadly beside his wife and popped another potato in his mouth. “I haven’t had to do much of anything for the last few months. My husband takes the whole bed rest thing seriously.”

 

“He’s a good ‘un,” Ginger comments, and she glances to Hilde with a meaningful smile. Hilde rolls her eyes but Loki doesn’t miss the blush that starts across her cheekbones. He reaches down and grasps her hand underneath the table, trying hard not to smile too wide.

 

“I know,” Sif says softly, her eyes full of love. Within a second, though, she grimaces and rubs her belly.

 

“You okay, Sif?”

 

She glances up to Loki and offers him a strained but genuine smile of assurance. “A-okay. Just Braxton-Hicks, is all. The closer we get to a due date the more they’ll pop up at random. Dr. Eir said it was perfectly normal. Only another three weeks or so...I think I can manage.”

 

She takes a swig of her water and Loki tries to ignore how her hands shake ever so slightly holding the glass. If he doesn’t think about anything bad happening to his sister in law nor the baby, he’ll be fine. So he doesn’t, at much as he’s able to.

 

The conversation shifts and drifts along naturally for a while after that as Thor gets up to grab dessert. Bucky starts a lively discussion with Henri about the mechanics of car engines while Hilde and Ginger get to know Misty.

 

“It’s short for Mercedes,” she answers, when Hilde asks. “I couldn’t really tell you how I got Misty out of it, but that’s what they’ve always called me.”

 

“I could tell you how I got HIlde out of Brunnhilde easily,” Hilde quips with a laugh. “I was in middle school before I could pronounce the name properly and only could ever say the end of it.”

 

“What origin is that, by the way? Sounds like something Nordic.”

 

“It’s Norse,” Hilde and her mother say at the same time, and then they give each other the same almost aggravated expressions. It’s nearly like watching twins, except Ginger is older and a little shorter. But the resemblance is nearly uncanny and Loki can imagine the young woman Henri had met 32 years before.

 

“You’ve really gotta quit that, Mama,” Hilde says, but there’s nothing but humor in her voice.

 

“You’re the one copying me, actually,” her mother retorts, a know it all grin on her face. “I was here first.”

 

“Oh, god, are we gonna start that again?”

 

“Don’t start none, won’t be none.”

 

Misty catches his eye over the the two women and shoots him a silent laugh and he can’t help but return it. “You guys remind me so much of my mom and sister," she says. "It’s a little scary.”

 

“I’d say it’s a Philly thing, but I don’t know if you’ve got people that way.”

 

Misty nods excitedly. “Mama grew up in Point Breeze. Moved there as a kid.”

 

“West Philly right here,” Ginger says proudly, reaching out to give Misty a high five. Hilde groans and turns to him then, her face amused but a little exasperated.

 

“That’s all we’re going to hear tonight, now. Stories about Philly and how marvelous a city it is and how superior.”

 

“That’s cause it is,” Ginger says, not missing a beat in her conversation with Misty.

 

“Whatever, Mama, I’m not arguing with you.”

 

“It won’t do you any good, _mon étoile_ ,” Henri says, glancing around his wife talk to his daughter. “You know you won’t win against that one.”

 

“Well hot damn, I’m glad you finally learned that after 30 damn years!”

 

Hilde blew out a breath and turned back to her plate of pie. “I swear, if ya’ll don’t stop-”

 

“I’ve always known,” Henri said boldly, his face full of mischief. “I simply liked riling you up. You’re so pretty when you’re angry at me.”

 

“Papa, don’t egg her on, _please_ -”

 

“Nah, Hilde, let him dig himself into a hole. He’s gonna be sleeping on the damn floor tonight if he doesn’t quit it!”

 

Henri’s laugh was loud and he tugged Ginger to him, kissing her heartily on the neck as she tried not to laugh.

 

“I can’t take them any damn where,” Hilde says with her eyes closed, her face flaming red. Loki wants to laugh so badly but he settles for a soft snort and rubs his girlfriend’s back sympathetically. He only wishes he had Frigga and Odin around to be embarrassed by. And as if he could read his brother’s mind, Thor catches his eye and smiles.

 

“Remember when Mother sat and played mediator with that developer after he insulted Father’s business ethic?” Thor asks, his eyes glimmering with the memory of it. They’d been so young, Thor only 11 and Loki 10. And sitting at the table with the adults had been so boring right up until then.

 

“Oh she did a fantastic job,” he responds, pausing for a moment to catch a few stray curses in French and a giggle from Misty’s direction. Sif slid a plate of yams over to Bucky and watched the entire thing with her hand on her belly.

 

“Until he started on about us, and how disrespectful we were-”

 

“Because we dared to have opinions as children-”

 

“And I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lose her cool until then. Even when we snuck off to Chicago, she wasn’t that angry.”

 

Loki beams proudly. “Never come between Frigga and her babies, that’s what I always say.” There were times she had embarrassed him in that regard, but what he wouldn’t give to have it all back now. Even in the darkest days, there had been some good. He missed it so much. But at least he had the memories.

 

He’s just about to launch into another one of those memories-Frigga standing up to Thor’s math teacher about his dyslexia-when he heard a sharp gasp.

 

“Sif?”

 

Thor turns to his wife with worry, and Loki knows before she says a word that it’s time. Her face is ashen and beads of sweat line her brow, but her eyes are shining with excitement and anticipation.

 

“Darling,” she says, breathless and a bit rushed, “I think my water just broke.”

 

* * *

 

 

Magni is born at exactly 10:00 pm on Christmas, and he’s a beautiful, healthy little boy with his father’s flaxen hair and his mother’s eyes. He weighs in at almost eight pounds, a perfect size for a newborn. There’s absolutely nothing sweeter to Loki than his round little face and his tiny little fists and his soft, sweet skin. He holds the baby with absolute awe and coos to him gently as Sif rests. The birth had been moderately easy, fairly quick, and blissfully free of complications. That was a relief after months of not being able to move much.

 

“I guess the bed rest paid off,” she says, propped up against pillows, her eyes drooping. But she didn’t seem to want to sleep, content to stay awake to chat with he and Hilde and Misty too, who had tagged along. The entire dinner party had come to the hospital with them-Ginger and Henri and Bucky, too, outside as Thor called all his friends and colleagues to announce the birth. Heim and Freya would be in the next day with their eldest; they’d spent Christmas this year with Freya’s parents in Shoreditch.

 

“It’s probably all those _Young & the Restless_ reruns you watched,” he says in a quiet voice, his arms cradling his nephew protectively. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would walk through hell for the baby boy he held. He could only imagine just how protective he’d be with children of his own.

 

Sif snorts gently and yawns for the umpteenth time, but she’s stubborn still. Hilde and Misty’s soft chatter drift over toward him and he catches Hilde looking his way, her face soft and placid, that same almost hazy look in her eye when she’d learned about Gamora’s pregnancy earlier.

 

“It was _Bold and the Beautiful_ this go round,” Sif says. She reaches out then for her son and when Loki gives him up, a little reluctantly, he whimpers in his sleep, tugging at Loki’s heartstrings. “God he’s so beautiful,” Sif whispers, tears coming to her eyes once again. She’d cried right after he was delivered, Thor had said, and then when Loki came into the room and met him for the first time, she’d cried again. Poor Sif probably hadn’t teared up this much ever in her life.

 

“He is. You did good, sis. You did amazing.” He leans down and pecks Sif on the head just as Thor comes back into the room and lets out a happy sigh.

 

“I should take a picture," Thor says, struggling to keep his voice down so he doesn't wake his son.

 

“If you’re going to, you better hurry. Sif’s nearly asleep.”

 

“Mmm’not,” she mumbles, but her eyes are happy, even if they droop with the need to rest. “Come on, then, let’s snap one. All of us, come on! And we can get one with Heim and Freya later, too. So that means you’ll have to come over for breakfast or lunch or something within the week.”

 

“I’ll make it my business to do that,” Loki promises, gesturing for Hilde to join him. He squishes in the bed on Sif’s left while Thor squishes to her right, Magni in her arms. Hilde takes the first few snaps of just the Odinson family, before Thor urges her to come squish in between Sif and Loki.

 

“I don’t want to get in the way or anything.”

 

“Trust me, love, you won’t,” Sif assures her, scooting over a little so there’s more room. And then Thor asks Misty to grab Bucky and Henri and Ginger and a nurse too, so everyone can get in the photo.

 

Thor sends him the picture later on that night, when Hilde’s curled up beside him in bed and the neighborhood has finally gotten quiet. He’s almost startled at how happy he looks, his smile wide and bright and absolutely pure. He makes it his new wallpaper on his phone, turns the brightness down, and kisses his girlfriend goodnight before he falls into a contented slumber.

 

* * *

 

Sigyn sends him a very belated Merry Christmas (and happy New Year) hours before he’s due at Bucky’s for a New Year’s Eve party. He laughs and presses call on her number, tapping his foot as he waits for her to pick up.

 

“You do remember, Loki, that we were on a cruise. I didn't think to buy the service plan, is what happened. I don’t forget to wish anyone any sort of happy anything, and you know I don’t.” She sounds so absolutely put out about it all. He doesn't bother suppressing a laugh.

 

“Of course not, Sig. Of course not. How was it by the way? Are you tired of the ocean yet?”

 

He can almost hear her beaming on the other end. “I could never! Oh gosh, Loki, it was beautiful! All that blue water, the waves, the seaspray. I think Winnie got tired after day three or four, but the boys and I adored it.”

 

“I don’t know if I could stand a month long cruise. I really don’t.” That was entirely too much time away from dry land and he could almost imagine how antsy he’d be after a week at sea, much less 30 days.

 

“You don’t know unless you try,” she says pointedly, in much the same way he’d caught her talking to her sons. He felt a lot like a boy at school, his teacher giving him a matter of fact lesson about something that should have been rather obvious. It didn’t bother him a bit. If anything, he found it endearing.

 

“I might one day. If I thought I could talk Hilde away from the gallery, I would.”

 

“How is she, by the way? Last she text me, she was getting on well with her new coworkers. I told her she’d get that job. I had a feeling.”

 

“Are you reading cards now, Sig?”

 

“Maybe. Mind if I practice on you? Winnie says it’s all a bunch of, and I quote “hullabaloo and nonsense” but I think he’s wrong. Mostly, anyway.” She laughs then, her soft, trilling laugh that he always liked so much. He can imagine how her eyes twinkle when she does. “One chart I read said I’d be having three girls and I’ve got two boys. So I’m not sure which Sigyn they’re talking about, but it most definitely is not Sigyn Arlington Grant.”

 

“Never say never. You’re still young.”

 

“Nope. Factory has been shut down and closed, thank you,” she chuckles. “But it’s fun to think about, isn’t it? That your entire life can be ruled by something as transient as a star."

 

He wasn’t sure if stars were really so transient in actuality. They were infinitely more stable than the fickle lives humans lived. But he wouldn’t tell Sigyn that. She seemed to be having fun with her zodiac and her tarot, so he let her be.

 

"I think I'll put that quote in my memoirs," she says, referencing the book she'd started writing a few months back. It was to be a autobiography of sorts, the tale of a self proclaimed would be superstar who had crashed and burned but survived anyway. He had given her his blessing on the entire thing, only asking that she didn't gloss over his part in the gritty details if she chose to write them. And she had promised him she would try not to, at least not too much. "I can't make you look too badly, Nancy-boy," she had said tenderly, and he knew had he been inclined to do what she was doing, he couldn't bring himself to make her look anything less than the beautiful human she was. He shifts their conversation to the book and her progress and she gets excited then, telling him all about her new agent and how supportive Winnie was, and he listened, happy she was happy and glad he could witness it.

 

She hangs up with a promise to call sooner than she had before and told him to let Hilde know that the portrait she’d ordered had come in perfect condition, that she loved them both, and that she and Winnie and the babies would try and come see them in the spring. And then he was alone in his room, the usual quiet of the evening punctuated with pre celebrations outside and car horns and the hustle and bustle of a New Year’s Eve in Brooklyn, New York.

 

He walked down to Bucky’s with Wanda and Jarvis in tow, a bottle of sparkling grape juice under his arm. Darcy met him at the door, Ian on her arm and a nervous sort of look on her face.

 

“It’ll be fine,” he whispers, when he’d knocked and they waited outside the door of the flat. He could hear music from the inside already, and if he was right, it was probably Gucci Mane. The thought made him smile.

 

“Yeah, I know. I’m fine. I’m cool.” Darcy nodded, almost as if she was trying to convince herself. But then Ian’s fingers tangled with hers and her body seemed to relax just a little bit more, enough that by the time the door swung open, she looked as unaffected as he knew she really wasn’t.

 

“You must be Loki,” Bucky said with a cheeky grin, laughter in his voice. His smile softened when he saw Darcy, and he reached out, offering her a hug. There was only the slightest bit of hesitation on her part; it was as if she were relieved that there were no hard feelings on his end, even though Loki had informed her about Misty.

 

“James,” Bucky says, introducing himself to Ian cheerfully. “Nice to meet you. Everyone calls me Bucky, or Buck, or Bucknasty. Or Big Daddy.”

 

“Nobody calls you Big Daddy,” Loki hears, and Hilde slips in the small space between Bucky and the half opened door. “What’s it with you and leaving people in the hall, Buck? Geez.”

 

She reaches out and hugs Wanda and Jarvis, then introduces herself to Ian after pulling in Darcy for a hug as well. “We missed you, girl. It’s been boring without you.”

 

“Well, yeah. I’m the life of the party and all that. Toot toot, baby.”

 

Loki plops down in his spot at the wooden table, where Sam had just won another round of spades.

 

“You’re late, man. They went too easy on me and I kept winning.”

 

“I’m not doing that again,” Natasha grumbles, getting up and tugging Clint along with her. “No more spades for this bitch, I swear to god.”

 

“Awww c’mon now, Romanoff! I could teach you a few tricks.”

 

“Are you bullying people into playing spades again, Sam?” Darcy asks, taking a bottle of water from the cooler beside her chair.

 

“You know it,” Sam says with a grin, and he sighs then, dramatically, swiping his cards up with a flourish. “I guess ya’ll can play dominos. I’m tired of winning, anyway.”

 

“You guys play D & D?” Ian asks, glancing around the room at the domino table and the piles and piles of cream soda cans. There’s a pause for a moment, until Drax and Pete try speaking at the same time, and Ian’s whole face lights up.

 

“We should probably take this in the kitchen, though. And ask around, I think Ryan plays sometimes.”

 

“I used to in my youth,” Jarvis says, getting up with a grunt to follow them into the kitchen, leaving Loki with Hilde on his lap and Wanda to his right. Darcy shook her head and started to laugh.

 

“You know, I was so nervous he wouldn’t fit in. I forgot that Drax and Peter are literal nerds. Dude’s probably just made two best friends.”

 

“You’re never gonna see ‘em now,” Hilde says with a laugh. “It’ll be six a.m. tomorrow monring and they’ll still be in there rolling dice.”

 

“It’s better than the alternative,” Darcy says, humor in her tone as she glances over to Bucky at the stereo. “They could be up all night playing fuckin’ Fortnite.

 

* * *

 

 

Someone, he’s not sure, starts a line dance around 10:30. He’s never done the Footloose, but Bucky is almost alarmingly good at it, as is Hilde. By the time the song ends, though, he’s managed to pick up a few of the steps enough that he doesn’t stumble too badly on the second play.

 

Shuri comes in late, quarter to eleven with more cream sodas and snacks and weed, Rocket behind her and Peter Parker and a friend of his named MJ from high school.

 

“You know, he still hasn’t asked that Ned kid out yet,” Nat says, in her usual droll tone but her eyes speak of juicy gossip and Loki leans in as he knocks back a ginger ale. “He’s terrified of being rejected for whatever reason. Shuri says he doesn’t have any reason to be cause Ned’s been in love with him as long as Peter’s been in love with Ned and she says she’s this close to playing Cupid her damn self.”

 

“Hmmm, well, what about our girl, though?” Gamora asks, twirling a strand of purple red hair between her fingers. She glances over to where Shuri was huddle up with MJ, the two of them seemingly lost in their own little world. It reminded Loki a lot of Bucky and Darcy in the beginning, only not quite as touchy feely.

 

“We’ve got a baby lesbian,” Nebula says, almost proudly. “And I hope she’ll tell me all about it. I wanna play lesbian aunt.”

 

Hilde snorts and tries not to choke on her soda. “I love that, La La. Lesbian aunt sounds like the best job. Now, you didn’t hear this from me, but I think Shuri’s actually a baby bi.”

 

“And here I go thinking I had another one on the squad," Nebula says, but she smiles anyway. “Either way, I’m still lesbian aunt. Hilde can be bi aunt, if that's cool. World needs more women loving women solidarity, ya know?” She and Hilde fist bump and turn back to the younger girls, and Loki smiles when MJ makes Shuri giggle.

 

Oh, to be young again.

 

By the time they all pile outside on Bucky’s rooftop to watch fireworks and count down the night, the girls have begun holding hands and Ryan and Beth are making out while Darcy and Misty talk in the corner about Bucky as he looks on nervously. He blows out a cold frosty breath and rubs his hands together, nodding over toward his current and his ex.

 

“You think they’re schemin’ something?” he asks.

 

“I think you’re paranoid,” Loki says, and Hilde nods in agreement.

 

“I seriously doubt they’re even talking about you. Probably talking about _Grey’s Anatomy_ or something.”

 

“ _Chicago Fire_ , I think,” Loki supplies. “Darcy doesn’t watch _Grey’s_.”

 

“Whatever,” Bucky grumbles, but he mellows out after a moment, especially when the two women grasp hold of each other and start to laugh about something. “Huh. Ain’t that somethin’.”

 

“I could have told you that would happen,” Hilde says with an eye roll. “And besides, it’s New Year’s Eve and the music is finally good for once-”

 

“I told you, Gucci is a treasure and nobody should say otherwise.”

 

“Well I’m sayin’ otherwise, dammit,” Hilde insists. “I’m giving whomever changed the radio fifty bucks out of the goodness of my heart.”

 

“Where’s my money?” Loki asks, and she groans then laughs as he kisses her forehead.

 

“You guys, it’s almost time! Thirty seconds!” Pete calls, pulling everyone close in from their respective corners and circles so that they can start the countdown. In the meantime, as the seconds tick away, he looks down at the woman he loves and thinks about how this year had been both painful but beautiful, and how the growth he’d shown had made him a much better, happier person. He knew he could lay it all on finding Hilde, but he thinks just maybe she’d only been the catalyst. He’d done a lot of good himself.

 

“What you thinkin’ about?” she asks, her eyes gleaming in the bright lights of the city as they countdown gets closer.

 

“About how lucky I am,” he says truthfully, because he is. He loves her so much, and he’s so happy he’s found her. And he decides, as Peter Quill’s rambunctous voice starts from 10, that he’s going to tell her.

 

“Hilde, I-”

 

“9, 8, 7…”

 

“Yeah?” She draws in a cold breath and waits to hear what he has to say, her body pressed in close to his and her lip trembling. His hands tug her ever closer and he only has eyes for Brunnhilde now, for her beautiful face and her wild heart and her perfectly imperfect smile.

 

“6, 5, 4…”

 

“I love you.”

 

He thinks, for just a moment, that time stands still, and maybe it does. He almost doesn’t hear the rest of the countdown because she smiles and it lights up the night like the summer sun, like the moon the night he’d met her.

 

“3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!”

 

And then she tugs him down to kiss him, her lips warm against the cold, and his heart beating hard in his chest, and he knows without her having to say it that she feels the same. Even still...

 

“I know,” she says, as the crowd around them cheers. He glances up just then, as “Auld Lane Syne” plays in the background and the sky bursts with fireworks. And all his friends are here; all the people who had taken him into their hearts and shown him love and real friendship and he’s never been so happy, never felt so right.

 

And he’s not scared of it anymore.

 

“Okay Han Solo,” he finally says, kissing Hilde’s nose when she giggles. She lays her head on his shoulder and sings along to Mariah Carey, laughing as the bassline of the song thumps up and the beat drops and she pulls him into the dance with her.

 

* * *

  

They walk around the city, their city, hours later, just as the first hints of dawn appear. It’s a fresh new start, a new year, and the streets are so quiet and calm. He loves this time of day. It’s almost like a reset button has been pressed, and he feels as though he could tackle anything now, especially with Hilde there beside him.

 

“Hey Loki,” she says, grabbing his hand as they stand beside the Brooklyn Bridge and stare out over the icy water.

 

“What is it, sweetheart?”

 

She doesn’t speak for a very long moment, but she watches his face, her fingers linked with his own, and her hair blowing gently in the cold wind. He takes a mental snapshot of her just like this, beautiful and wonderful, and files it away in his memory bank of all the good things that’s ever happened in his life.

 

And he’s had so many. He knows that now. He’s had so many wonderful moments and he’s so happy he’s still around to have more.

 

“I love you too,” she finally says, softly and a little timid but it’s a sure thing. He can’t help the grin that splits his face, nor can he help pulling her into him and kissing her soundly. When he finally pulls away, breathless and teary eyed, the sun begins to rise over New York City. It really is, he thinks, like something from a rom com, like something out of the story column of a scented, glossy magazine.

 

“I think we should do brunch,” he says and she laughs but kisses him again and nods her head, and as they walk away from the bridge and down the street, it starts to snow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had the most wonderful time writing this. I really have. I'm honestly a little teary eyed that I finished, and that our story is mostly done. I say mostly, though because I've got a few ideas in the making for more in this verse...a prequel or two and possibly a sequel, as well. And most definitely a baby fic sometime down the line, because every one loves a good baby fic. 
> 
> Thank you so much for following this story with me and for encouraging me and for cheering me on. It means the world to me. 
> 
> I love you guys! 
> 
> -Mel

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always on tumblr if you'd like to come chit chat! lilithenaltum.tumblr.com


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